Road to Ruin: The Story of Alpha Company
by Purple Rookie
Summary: From the glassed Outer Colonies to the desolace of K7-49, the story of SPARTAN-III Alpha Company unfolds- from beginning to bloody end.
1. Prologue: Child of War

**PROLOGUE**

**1645 HOURS, 12 JULY 2530 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**UNSC **_**MY OTHER LEFT,**_** HIGH ORBIT OVER ERIDANUS, ERIDANUS II SYSTEM**

Cole watched it all through the window. He saw every inch of it- every flash of light, every smolder. Every detail was taken in by his 5-year old eyes. He watched with rapt attention as dozens of ships moved in perfect coordination, doing what they did best. He watched, silent and attentive, as the pattern that had established itself years ago at Harvest repeated itself. Every last detail was absorbed and accepted by his eyes and brain as he watched the latest spectacle of the Human-Covenant War. He stood there and watched it all.

He watched as the Covenant burned his home. And then it hit him.

His home was gone. His family and friends were all gone. Everything, everyone… just gone. He would never see them again. That was what did it. The five-year old collapsed onto the deck sobbing, his shrill voice joining that of hundreds of others on the cargo deck of UNSC _My Other Left_. Hardly anyone was distracted by this- hundreds of others were already screaming and bawling their heads off- and no-one blamed them. This had happened a dozen times already- the Covenant would come, they would destroy a planet, and leave. They left no-one and nothing save ashes and glass. The UNSC had named the Covenant's destruction of planets after what they left behind.

Glassing.

But what was surprising was that the child stopped sobbing after only a few minutes. As many around him bawled on and on, the child, shaking and hiccoughing only occasionally now, rose to his feet. His tiny hands balled into fists, and his frame began to shake again. But it was not anguish that drove this. It was not sorrow or misery that caused the youth to shake like a building on Earth's San Andreas Fault. It was anger. Pure, steaming rage and hatred. The kid was a kettle boiling over. As his face flushed red with blood, he rushed to the window and pounded against it with his fists, screaming at the top of his voice all the while. The glass was reinforced, and the Covenant fleet was millions of kilometers away- he might as well have mooned them for all the good it would have done. But that wasn't the point. He hated them- he detested and loathed them with every fiber of his being, and with nothing left to live for- no friends, no family, no home- revenge was all he had left; it was all he could hope to gain from the remainder of his life. Long or short, that's what it would come down to. Vengeance.

Lieutenant Forrest Anderson smiled to himself. This one would be perfect. He was a textbook case, just like the other seven Anderson had recruited. Colonel James Ackerson had put out a call for volunteers for a pilot project, with a final selection class of three hundred. But what was a class without washouts? The rough targets had called for five hundred- when last Anderson had checked, the roster stood at four hundred ninety-six. Ackerson had also specifically stated that the candidates were not to exceed six years of age. Anderson's smile only grew wider as he recalled this. This was only too familiar.

In 2517, seventy-five children had disappeared into the night at the age of six, replaced by flash-clones who would die of 'unknown natural causes' within a few months. Eight years later, the UNSC NavSpecWar officers had thirty-three SPARTAN-II super-soldiers at their disposal. To Anderson, it was hardly an ideal operation: too many had washed out- over half, in fact. But this was thirteen years later. ONI had learned. Ackerson had never actually said what he wanted these kids for, but looking at ONI's records had yielded enough clues to crack the real meaning behind the Colonel's odd request. Anderson's smile remained glued to his face- ONI would be getting a new generation of Spartans.

The kid's screaming reached fever pitch, and he pounded against the glass harder than ever- had Anderson not known that the viewports were reinforced, he might have moved to stop him- but he didn't. _Let's just see how angry he can _really_ get,_ a voice inside him said. The rest of Anderson's mind offered no arguments. Minute by minute, the glass took more and more abuse from the child's fists, until finally, fatigue set in. Anderson's smile disappeared and his eyebrows rose- the kid's fury had played itself out- for now. If it ran this deep, though…

Anderson strode across the room, passing dozens of others, including other children, who simply lay sobbing on any surface they were perched on. He shook his head ever so slightly. _No,_ he thought,_ they just won't do_. _They're nothing like that one_. He reached the window and crouched, right next to the child who had battered for almost ten minutes at a reinforced window. If only some of the other seven had been this angry… Anderson sighed. He'd probably be a Lieutenant Commander instead. But that would mean he'd be attached to some high-and-mighty post, and he hated that. He'd rather be here, where he could _see_, see with his own eyes the fruits of his labors. His smile was back in a flash as he considered that considered just what those fruits would be… _This boy, a real SPARTAN_… SPARTANs would carve a name for themselves into the skulls of any Covenant they crossed. History, however, would never know him.

But thousands of Covenant corpses would bear witness to the history SPARTANs could make. SPARTANs that _he_ would bring into the fold.

He set a hand on the boy's shoulder. "All right, son, it's all right." The words came naturally to him, fatherly and concerned, but commanding all at the same time. A part of him hated it- he'd have to pretend to care and be concerned with these children for them to trust him- he'd be deceiving them. But it was necessary, like so many other things the UNSC had done.

Things that made the kidnapping of seventy-five children seem saintly.

He patted the boy's shoulder again. "Now, now, son- it's okay."

"No… its- it's not," the boy sniffed, grief filling the void anger had just vacated. "They t-took my- my family… my-"

"I know. Believe me, I know," Anderson replied heavily- and convincingly. The kid looked up at him through huge tear-filled eyes. "They killed your family too?"

"On Harvest. They died years ago, also thanks to the Covenant." Not technically a lie- he'd lost his brother and his two nieces when the Covenant glassed the planet. Any shred of information that made you more convincing was a plus for ONI- but a small bit of him squirmed. His father would be turning in his grave if he knew Forrest was using his family's tragedy like this. But he pushed on- he'd started, and there was no more point in trying to go back. Clearing his throat, he continued. "It hurts, doesn't it? Knowing they're gone- that those aliens didn't care that they were good people. They kill anyone- good, bad, it doesn't matter. They just kill." The boy looked up at him, his eyes wide. "Why do they do it?"

Anderson simply shrugged. "Who knows? But that's why we fight. We fight so that they can't kill us all. But we don't have enough- we're losing."

Something flooded into the child's eyes, making them go wide and dark. Fear.

"L-losing…?"

Forrest nodded. "Yes. We're losing. Day by day, week by week, year by year, they kill more people, burn more worlds. We do our best, but we can't stop them. And we're running out of people." It probably helped that a not-so-insignificant part of him really did know just how bad their situation was. That's why he was recruiting, wasn't he? He was going to turn all that around.

"Then let me fight." Anderson allowed his eyes to widen.

"What?"

"Let me fight- you need more people. Let me fight them. I'll help you win."

It never ceased to amaze him how children could honestly believe what they said- and this one meant it too. He would fight the Covenant. And Anderson would show him just how to do it.

"You're just a kid- these aliens are killing grown-ups by the hundreds." Best not to say billions- just yet.

"I don't care- I'll kill 'em. I'll kill all of 'em."

_And snap went the mousetrap_, that voice in his mind purred. _Always make them think it's their idea_.

"You _are_ brave, aren't you?"

"You got that right- I ain't afraid o' any of 'em."

"All right, you can fight. But- you're going to need special training. This ship is going to stop at a new planet in two days." He pulled out a small yellow slip of paper. "Everyone else will get off, but show this to the man at the door and you can stay on the ship. It'll take you to your special training area." Something else entered the small boy's eyes just then- excitement. He was going to be trained, and then he'd go kill Covenant soldiers. Anderson sighed as the child ran off. He knew what it had been like to feel the thrill of his job. Sometimes he still felt it too- before the reminder of just what this war had cost sunk in.

Shaking his head, Anderson walked back to his quarters. His ONI datapad lay on his desk, blinking bright blue. Walking over, he picked it up and tapped the surface lightly. A message began to upload itself to the screen.

'_To Lieutenant Forrest Anderson._

_Your redeployment orders have been forwarded through FLEETCOM. You are to immediately report to Reach for your assignment to the UNSC _Spirit of Fire_ on a military expeditionary/recovery mission to planet Harvest, Epsilon Indi system. Respond ASAP._

_Sincerely,_

_Captain James Gregory Cutter,_

_UNSC _Spirit of Fire

_Message Ends.'_

Anderson sighed. Harvest was gone- anyone with half a brain knew that. But FLEETCOM wanted- then again, FLEETCOM wanted a lot of things. There was no point in refusing the order. Even if he hid, ONI would find him and court-martial him- that much he knew. He hung his head as a voice boomed over the PA system, "The ship will now make a Slipspace jump to the Epsilon Eridani system, planet Reach. All passengers please understand that the transition may be uncomfortable for some."

As a massive shudder passed through the ship, Anderson looked down at his datapad, now showing a new screen. He'd recruited eight children. Just how many would become SPARTANs? he wondered.


	2. Chapter 1: Initiation

**CHAPTER 01**

**1950 HOURS, 27 DECEMBER 2532 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

Cole stumbled out of the Pelican, jostled in the front, back and sides by the surging throng of kids. The Navy man who'd told him about this training had said humans were running out of soldiers- looking around at the crowd that was still disembarking from the Pelicans; doubt at that pronouncement flooded his mind. There seemed to be an army of them all right here. And if they all hated the aliens as much as he did… those world-burners had better watch out.

As the chaos continued to play itself out, Cole milled around at the door to the Pelican- over the past two years he'd gone from ship to ship, planet to planet. Every place was simply a stopping point before the next destination, so why go far from the ship? He wanted nothing more than to start the training he'd been promised. He was older now- stronger and smarter too. Now he'd kill the aliens- all of them. Just then, a voice boomed out over speakers, silencing and stilling the hundreds-strong crowd of children.

"Attention, recruits. I am Lieutenant Ambrose. You have all endured great hardships to be here. I know each of you has lost your loved ones on Jericho VII, Harvest, and Biko. The Covenant has made orphans of you all."

Some of the children were crying, while some were muttering mutinously under their breaths. He even heard one… 'You don't know- you've never seen it…' Cole, though, did neither, remaining silent instead. He didn't need reminders of what the Covenant had done to him. The voice rang out again.

"I am going to give you a chance to learn how to fight, a chance to become the best soldiers the UNSC has ever produced, a chance to destroy the Covenant. I am giving you a chance to be like me: a Spartan."

_Finally_. Cole's breathing became feverish and his pulse skyrocketed- this was it. He was finally ready. After two years of traveling and waiting and wondering, here he was, ready to begin. He ached to start, to finally walk down the road that would lead him to the monsters that had killed his family and burned his home.

But before his thoughts could fully materialize, Ambrose spoke again. "We cannot accept everyone, though." Cole's heart sank like a stone. He'd been told that he could fight. If he wasn't accepted… No, he thought. I _will_ get in- and I will fight. 'There are five hundred of you. We have three hundred training slots. Chief Petty Officer Mendez-" Ambrose, the two-meter figure in silver-green armor, gestured to a shorter man next to him. This second figure had a head of graying hair, and wore a navy-blue uniform with a tiny gold insignia on his lapel. Ambrose said, "Chief Petty Officer Mendez has devised a way to separate those who truly want this opportunity from those who do not." Turning to the one called Mendez, Ambrose said, in a quieter voice, "Chief?"

Mendez paused for a fraction of a second. Cole wondered why. Did Ambrose not tell everyone about this? But before he could think it through, Mendez's face was composed, he whispered something to Ambrose, and then hollered out to the hundreds crowding the field. "You want to be Spartans? Then get on those ships!"

The children stood stock-still. Cole gaped. They had come all this way, been told _to their faces_ that their training would begin, and they were going _back on the ships?_ When the silence had persisted ten seconds, Mendez yelled again, "No? I guess we found a few washouts. You," he pointed a small boy- "You-" he pointed at a dark-haired girl- "and you." He pointed right at Cole's face. _No._ A small voice in him piped up at that moment. _We've come this far- we are NOT leaving_. Cole shook his head vigorously, noting even as he did so that everyone around him was edging, foot by foot, away from him, as if Mendez would pick one of them for standing next to him. His reaction seemed to satisfy Mendez, who lowered his hand and cleared his throat. "No? Then get on those Pelicans." He did not yell, but his voice rang out louder than a cannon blast all the same.

Cole practically sprinted back into the Pelican, only too eager to get to wherever it was he had to go. The sooner he could start training, the better. The troop bay of the Pelican soon filled up as dozens of children flowed in joined finally by a single man in a Navy uniform. The man was handing out backpacks to the recruits, and the heavy packs slowly made their way around the Pelican's interior. One ended up with Cole, and he struggled with numerous straps and clasps as he attempted to don the harness. The Pelican's jets droned to life as the heavy craft ascended, but Cole took no notice. Fumbling with a particularly stubborn strap, he bumped into someone. The other turned around to him- it was the boy who he'd heard mutter at the Lieutenant as he spoke to them. He was slightly taller than Cole, with jet-black hair and a slightly darker, almost olive complexion. He snarled at Cole and opened his mouth as if to tell him off, but then simply turned on his heel away from Cole, deciding he wasn't worth the half-gallon of breath. Returning to his ever-obstinate harness, Cole stumbled under the weight and bumped into someone else, and actually brought his fists up in case he'd bumped into Tall, Dark and Grumpy again. Instead, he looked up and saw he'd accidentally shoved the girl Mendez had pointed at. She was small, even for someone of the recruits' age, a full head shorter than him, with hair than seemed even darker than the first kid's- if that was possible. She flashed him a quick smile, and then returned to finish doing her harness.

Cole blinked; his chest seemed oddly still. He then fumbled with the clasps again once his heart had resumed its regular rhythm, and after several minutes, managed to stand without entangling himself. The Navy man seemed very interested in his wrist. He then looked up and shouted out to the children over the roar of the Pelican's engines. "All right- we're gonna drop you onto the field! Once the doors open, you all file out and jump! On your packs there are two straps- red is your primary and blue's your backup! Yank hard and you'll land safely!" The engines were interrupted by a sharp _hiss_ as the doors slowly slid open. The Navy man grabbed onto a railing and yelled out. "Go, go, go!"

The other recruits seemed only too willing to file out, rushing out of the dropship's passenger bay with almost suicidal zeal. Inside, Cole panicked- how would he get chosen if he arrived last? As the girl he'd bumped into earlier fell from view, he sprinted towards the door, just ahead of the first one he'd bumped into. Leaping from the now-open door, Cole fell.

That he plummeted like a stone would be an insult to the speed at which he traveled. He hurtled down towards earth, zipping past the hundreds of opening and already-open parachutes. He wouldn't get there first- he knew that from the dozens of already limp parachutes on the ground. He'd just have to show how good he was in other ways. He sped past another few open parachutes, pack still intact. A mere two hundred feet up from the ground, he yanked at a strap- he did not care which it was. A massive 'chute blossomed out of his pack, slowing his descent- but not by much. True, he did slow down as he descended, but he'd been traveling at terminal velocity- something no-one else was. Cole hit the ground at the speed of a sprinter, crumpling as his tiny limbs absorbed the shock of the impact. Searing pain lanced through his ankles, knees and hips, and he fell to the ground like a rag doll, twitching and stirring, but otherwise unable to move for the pain. He didn't remember someone drawing blinds over his eyes, but everything just started going dark.

"Hey kid! Get up!" Cole yanked his eyes open, and color- mostly blue and black though- flooded into the world. Two men stood over him- the silver-haired one called Mendez, and a younger one- but not Ambrose. He wore a uniform just like the one Mendez had. As he rose and tried to stand, he felt his legs for the first time- it felt like they were in casts. Was he in a hospital? _No, _he thought, _a hospital wouldn't have grass…_ he looked down at his legs, puzzled.

"That's Biofoam, kid-" the younger officer said, "it keeps you from falling apart. You broke three bones falling like that- stupidest damn stunt I ever saw anyone pull, and I was there when Mendez decided to-" but he broke off when Mendez rapped him softly on the back of the head. Clearing his throat, he changed tack. "Anyway, kid, you're in. Just don't do that again or we'll have lost a Spartan even before we start fighting." Cole nodded, slightly numb form what he'd just heard. He'd made it. He was going to learn to fight.

He was going to be a SPARTAN.


	3. Chapter 2: Team Falcon

**CHAPTER 02**

**1115 HOURS, 14 FEBRUARY 2533 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

"A299, will you pay attention?" Cole snapped from his- trance, he supposed- and sat bolt upright in his chair. The class stared at him- as did their teacher, Eternal Spring. A computer program (although it preferred the term AI), it had dedicated a portion of its time to instructing the new SPARTAN candidates- a task it thoroughly resented. The light-blue figure of a long-haired young woman in a simple knee-length dress glared sternly at him.

"As interesting as I also find A171's head, I, like you, A299, don't have the time to waste. So- if you please…" She turned and vanished, her image replaced by that of a landscape. A narrow pass appeared out of thin air. Three red dots appeared at one end of the pass, while a much, much larger number of green dots appeared at the other end. "This was how things stood at the beginning of the battle of Thermopylae. Three hundred Spartans and several thousand Greek allies at one end, and over one hundred thousand Persian troops at the other." The view zoomed and expanded, the valley taking up most of the space in the room. Spring continued speaking. "Please move your chairs to the side of the room. I'd do it myself, but…" When no one responded to this… "Just move the chairs! I can flunk every one of you if I want, and if those chairs aren't moved, three hundred reports will read exactly that!" Within a minute, every chair rested against the wall. The disembodied voice rang out again, sweet as a purring cat once again. "Thank you. Now-" the view zoomed to the end with red dots- "the Spartans took up a position at the narrowest section of the pass. Any ideas why they did this?" When the class remained silent, Spring gave a small sigh. "Here's a hint- they were horribly outnumbered." The class remained still, although one short arm did rise above the sea of heads. Giving a disembodied sigh of relief, Eternal Spring said, "Yes? A274?"

Looking petrified, a small boy with rust-colored hair murmured in a voice that was felt more than it was heard, "So the- the enemy c- couldn't use all their numbers?"

Eternal Spring's face appeared; ghostly blue and fifteen feet wide, in the middle of the room. Every single one of the students jumped, and quite a few did it in style, leaping several feet off the floor with yelps of fright and crashing straight into their classmates behind them, causing minor scuffles as the less frightened turned on the more frightened. The wildness of the scene continued to grow and grow until-

"STOP! NOW!" The door was open, and sunlight spilled into the room. Mendez stood in the door, his expression livid. Cole gulped- everyone had frozen mid-scuffle, some with fists in mid-air, others with feet raised above the prone forms of others. Every face, though- even the enormous face of Eternal Spring, balloon-like under its magnified size, was turned in blank shock to the Chief Petty Officer. Mendez breathed deeply three times, about as much as the rest of the room combined. Shaking his head, he vacated the doorway. "All of you- to your quarters. Now. Report to the Drop Field in 0100 hours. I will personally drop latecomers out of a Pelican- without a chute. Now move it."

Too stunned to argue, the three hundred SPARTAN trainees of Alpha Company shuffled out the door. Once they were clear, every child, Cole included, sprinted back towards the squat concrete barracks that held the Spartan quarters. Anything to get away from the Chief. Cole had never seen the man so angry- and he had a feeling that Mendez was perfectly capable of killing every one of them if he didn't have to train them.

Reaching his dwelling block, he pulled open the steel-grey door, reached his bunk in five strides, and then flopped down onto it. His heart pounding in his ears, he wondered just what Mendez had in store for them. Maybe he just wanted them all calmed down so they wouldn't riot if he yelled at them. Or would he be telling them all that they were kicked out of the program? Cole's heart sank- if the Chief convinced Ambrose that they couldn't be trained, then it was over for him- him and two hundred ninety-nine others. And he'd never get his chance to fight back. _No_, he thought, _that can't be it_… _But what else could it be_? a different voice spoke this time. Cole paused, following through with the thought.

He was so absorbed by the possibilities that he didn't even hear the door to the room open, and was only aware of this when he heard voices.

"What the hell did you have to do that for? The-"

"You thought he wasn't going to punish the innocent ones too? Look at Cole- timid as a rabbit and you don't see _him_ getting excused from the DF in half an hour!"

Half an hour? Had it really been that long? Cole raised his head to look at the primitive analog clock mounted on the low wall of their room. Sure enough, the longer hand pointed directly to the right, and the shorter one was pointing slightly to the right of straight up- off center, or something like that. Cole chuckled mentally- if they stood that way each morning, Mendez would skin them alive.

His eyes then shifted to the room's newest entrants. All fire teams roomed together and with no-one else. As Mendez had put it, "You eat, sleep, learn, and fight with your team. If your team wins, then you win. If your team loses, you lose too. You are nothing without each other, and the team is nothing without you. As such, you don't let the team down. And you NEVER-" his voice actually became a shout at this point- "leave anyone behind. Am I clear?" It had taken three affirmations from the candidates to assure him of this. And he had never forgotten to remind them of this every time he instructed them.

Standing in the center of the room was A176- also known as Leon- tall and dark, with a short fuse to boot. He was the one who Cole had bumped into during Initiation, as the Spartans called it- the DIs called it indoctrination. Leon had a temper and the speed to back it up, but he was loyal. He'd actually taken out a DI's tooth when the instructor used the electric security prods just one too many times on Cole. He'd gotten a broken nose for the effort.

Standing opposite Leon was Tyler- A127. The guy was ice-cool, even cold, one would say. Eternal Spring constantly yelled at him to pay attention, and he'd never even flinched, and he heeded the AI's words only slightly more than he reacted to them. Spring had given up around a week ago, assuming that he heard its words, but simply multitasked by making paper airplanes at the same time. Ironically, he had a thing for explosives.

"Well he's only timid because he keeps staring at 171 all the livelong day! What's that one's name, anyway?"

"Pam."

The word had escaped Cole's mouth before he was aware of it. The next thing he knew, both Leon and Tyler were staring, wide-eyed, at him. A rare moment for Tyler, to say the least.

"Dude- you know her name?"

"There's just three hundred of us- of course I know her name."

"It's been just a couple of weeks, and I only know like thirty people."

At this point, Tyler interjected- "That's because you don't ask people's names before you punch them, _Leonidas_. Cole's got a point. There aren't that many of us."

Leon scowled at Tyler- mostly, Cole thought, because of the nickname he'd been given. But Cole knew too that he was genuinely curious, and to be honest, he was too. Why _did_ he say it? Tyler would probably have known her name too- why hadn't he just let him answer?

At that point, the door opened again, and two more figures entered the room. A025- Eve- was the wiseacre of the team. Even taller than Leon, with a full head of sandy-colored hair and wide, ever-so-slightly protuberant eyes, she was always the second one to speak. Generally that was because someone made a slip of the tongue, but on occasion, she'd follow up one of Mendez's reprimands with a comment- it was more often this than the actual scolding itself that kept the team under control.

"Are you guys done already? We could hear you from out back, for Pete's sake." A133-Naomi might have been a gymnast- as agile as a jungle cat; she could outwrestle half a dozen DIs- simultaneously. But though she never actually picked fights, her presence was enough to keep Leon, the team's official leader- in check.

"What were _you_ two doing out back?"

"Sneaking peeks at what Mendez is doing on the DF."

"And…?"

"Nothin'. He's not there. Whatever he's up to, it's somewhere else. We don't even think he's in the camp."

Leon frowned. Cole didn't like it either. The Chief was their main instructor- what was he doing off the camp altogether? After several minutes' silent thought, Leon glanced up at the clock.

"All right guys, our hour's up. Let's go." Cole sat up, marveling at the passage of the fastest hour of his life. Silently, Leon, Tyler, Eve, Naomi and Cole walked to the door, and one by one, Team Falcon made their way over to the Drop Field to take whatever Mendez was dishing out.


	4. Chapter 3: Field Op

**CHAPTER 03**

**1217 HOURS, 14 FEBRUARY 2533 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

Three hundred children assembled at the Drop Field, the location named for the first thing the SPARTAN-III program had done to its recruits there. Even the camp personnel called it the Drop Field or DF- its official name, the Outdoor Central Congregation Area, was in disuse.

Cole lined up with Team Falcon amongst the hundreds of recruits. Everyone stood next to at least one squadmate- Mendez's first lesson had obviously been taken to heart. Cole sighed, wondering where on earth the Chief was- hadn't he been the one who said he'd punish latecomers?

As if on cue, the rumble of an engine sounded in the distance, just as a small plume of dust rose on the horizon, emerging from the woods that wrapped themselves around Twin Forks River. Within minutes, every one of the three hundred Spartan trainees could recognize the Chief's vehicle- an M-12 Light Reconnaissance Vehicle- generally known as a Warthog. A full five minutes late, the Warthog pulled up to the Drop Field, and an aging man in a blue uniform stepped out. Mendez was wearing his trademark crooked smile, and as Cole absorbed the sight, the muscles in the back of his neck tightened- this could not be a good sign.

"Attention all recruits!" the Chief called out, "I _was_ planning on having you do your first field exercise tomorrow. _But_ since you all showed how _eager_ you were to get down and dirty, I've decided to move it up a day."

The Chief reached into a pocket and withdrew a small folded slip of paper. He promptly unfolded it and displayed it to the gathered crowd. "This is a map of the area- Camp Currahee, the northern forest, Twin Forks River, El Morro Point. There are some things missing from this map, but nothing that is on it isn't there."

As he spoke, DIs- drill instructors- walked among the candidates, handing each team a small map. Everyone in Falcon glanced down at theirs- it was a map of the area all right- the forest, El Morro Point, Twin Forks River and the camp. A small red X on the map was labeled 'OBJECTIVE'. There were a series of red circles labeled 'PILLBOX' scattered across the area of the map. Cole had a slight feeling of misgiving in his gut- this all looked too easy- the pillboxes were spaced far apart- if they avoided them, they'd be far out of range, even if the guards used artillery. But everyone else seemed satisfied, Leon had even said, "Seems simple enough." A drill instructor passed by as he said that, and Cole could have sworn he'd seen the man smirk as he walked past. What was so funny? But before he could explore that thought, Mendez spoke again.

"Now that you've all had a good look at your maps, I'd like to show you all a few things. This-" he pulled a huge red flag from the back of the Warthog- "is your objective. You have to capture it and take it back to the DF. I will be waiting here to receive it. And understand that we'd like to keep you alive if possible, so the guards will _not_ be using live ammunition."

He gave them all a moment to digest the information, and then spoke again. "You have until 1800 to work out whatever plans you like for accomplishing the objective. At 1800 hours, report to the drop field and the exercise will begin. From that point on you have 36 hours to complete the task- you may use _any_ means necessary to take the flag. You are dismissed."

And with that, the crowd broke up. Falcon hurried back to their barracks, not wanting anyone to hear what they'd cook up. Between Leon's right hook, Naomi's athletics, Eve's sharp wit, and Tyler's level-headedness, they'd be sure to win. Cole began to get the distinct impression that he wasn't adding much to the team, but did not voice this misgiving. Mendez had never said anything about Spartans transferring between squads, and he didn't want to be the first to ask.

The steel-grey door slammed shut behind Falcon, and the squad promptly huddled around the map on the floor to observe it more closely. It seemed simple enough- they could simply go straight north from the camp to the flag, and go due south to get back. And if things went downhill they could move across the plain and pass El Morro point on a curving route to the flag- the map showed no bunkers or pillboxes there.

"So," Leon remarked to no-one in particular, "what do you think?"

Cole cleared his throat. "I saw a DI sniggering when he passed us by- think it means anythin'?"

"Leon, did you fart _again_?" Eve's grin went from ear to ear.

"For the last time, that wasn't me! And no- I didn't- let anything out when he passed. Maybe he just thinks we're stupid or something. Thinks we'll charge the bunkers, or some other dumb move."

There was a general nod from the rest of Falcon- the DIs were generally disdainful of the candidates, and did not think much of their capabilities. It was time to change that perception.

Leon interrupted this train of thought. "All right- we get packed and ready for the op. Take what we need- flashlights, rations, rope, field gear- just like the Chief said. No spare clothes. We're going light. Let's go- we only got five hours left."

And so it went- Team Falcon spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, running around the base to acquire rations and rope, as they already had other basic supplies and equipment in their barracks. On occasion, they'd run into one of the other teams- Viper, Orca, Jackal, or some other squad, but it was typically the two groups passing and looking at each other through narrowed eyes. Finally, after four and a half hours of lugging supplies at a full sprint across the camp, Falcon collapsed onto their bunks back at the barracks. Apparently Team Wolf Pack had taken the last of the rope in one of the storerooms, and they'd been held up by the Chief for almost an hour when they accidentally tried to force entry to Lieutenant Ambrose's quarters, thinking it was a supply shed.

"All right team, let's catch a breather- we'll be running like hell in a few hours…"

Seeing no reason to disagree, Cole sank back against his bed. What would Team Raven be doing right now? Cole's eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright- how did _that_ thought get into his head?

Leon raised and craned his head to observe the sudden motion. Seeing Cole, he nodded. "Good idea. We should get there early- we'll be first off the block that way."

Four other heads turned to look at the clock. They had twenty more minutes; something Tyler had no trouble expressing.

"Oh come on, Leon- do you want EVERYONE to see you picking your nose as they arrive?"

Leon scowled- not an uncommon occurrence. Tyler lay back down grinning widely, apparently satisfied. By contrast, Leon stood up and put on a dark green-gray hooded shirt, picking up his pack when he was through. The shirt, according to Leon, had been his brother's. That much seemed obvious to Cole- it looked more than a little large for him, and with the hood pulled down Leon looked faceless.

Cole sighed and stood- Tyler might put a dent in Leon's ego, but not his stubbornness. Already Eve and Naomi were pulling their packs on- even Tyler was pulling gloves on, inch by inch. Pulling the strap of his own bag over his shoulder, Cole walked over to the door and held it open, regretting it almost immediately. As Leon walked over, his grin lop-sided, he laughed and muttered, "A polite Spartan- imagine that…" and with that he exited the room. Eve and Naomi passed him, giggling- apparently voices carried in the barracks. Tyler then walked past, looking half-asleep as ever. With a look back into the now-bare room, Cole exited, feverish with excitement and sweating with anxiety all at once.

To his disbelief, there were already almost a dozen people gathered on the drop field as Team Falcon approached. As they got closer, they could begin to make out some of the individuals- there was Shane, resting his weight on one of his legs in preference to the other, and Robert, with several scars on his face and a slightly flattened nose- word had it that the two had had a boxing match on Initiation night- Cole found it funny that they should end up in the same unit. Together with Jane, short and with her middle tooth missing, and Nicholas, holding the strap of his bag in his dominant left hand, they formed Team Wolf Pack. A tiny fuse hissed in the back of Cole's head- they were responsible for an hour of hell Team Falcon had endured at the Chief's hands. But they were still Spartans- they were all in this together, weren't they?

The second team on the field was Team Raven. Cole found that name somewhat fitting- all were slightly below average height, and all had black or extremely dark brown hair. Now that Cole thought about it, Wolf Pack's name was somewhat fitting too, if the way Shane and Robert had torn into each other on Initiation night were any indication. _Maybe that's how they pick names…_ but before Cole could complete the thought, hundreds of muffled footsteps sounded as the rest of Alpha Company left their barracks and made their way towards the DF.

_The Chief's gotta be listening for us or something_, Cole mused silently, as he heard a Warthog's engine revving. Just as everyone else arrived on the field, the Warthog screeched to a halt in front of Alpha Company. Cole stole a sideways glance at Leon's wristwatch- like his shirt; it had been his brother's. And like his shirt; it was too large- it was wrapped around his knuckles. As Cole observed the hands, he noticed they were exactly opposite each other- it was 1800 hours. Go time, in other words.

The Chief's voice rang out across the field for the second time that day. "All right recruits, it is 1800 hours. As of now, you have thirty-six hours to retrieve the flag and return it here." When no-one moved, the Chief glanced down at his own watch, and then called out to everyone at large, "Thirty-five hours fifty-nine minutes." At that, all of Alpha Company broke into a full sprint straight for the woods- they'd be back with the flag in no time.

But even as Team Falcon ran past the Chief, Cole glanced at him. He held a cigar in his right hand, and wore a crooked smile on his face. But before Cole could read into it, he was out of close sight, and the rest of Alpha was passing them by. He put his head back down and picked up the pace. But a small thought kept running through his mind: _This is too easy_.

And he didn't like that one bit.


	5. Chapter 4: Concerning Spartans

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter's so short. I hope all readers are still enjoying this text as much as I'm enjoying writing it- I dread the day I'll have to write the chapters about K7-49.

**CHAPTER 04**

**1900 HOURS, 14 FEBRUARY 2533 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**NARROW BAND POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMISSION; ORIGIN: UNKNOWN; TERMINATION: UNKNOWN**

_//FILE ACCESS GRANTED/ WORM-PROTOCOL FIREWALL ACTIVE/ AUTOMATIC DELETION SEQUENCE: ACTIVE_

_PLNB TRANSMISSION: PV117A-CS_

_ENCRYPTION CODE: ALPHA_

_PUBLIC KEY: N/A_

_FROM: CODE NAME COAL MINER_

_TO: CODE NAME WARRIOR_

_SUBJECT: PROGRESS REPORT/OPERATION FARMHAND_

_CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY, CODE-WORD //__-CLASSIFIED- DECRYPTION ERROR//__, TOP SECRET (SECTION THREE X-RAY DIRECTIVE)_

_/FILE-EXTRACTION COMPLETE/_

_/STARTING FILE 1 OF 2/_

_First field exercise begun- I don't think the critical point has been taught yet. My analogy seems more correct than you thought; maybe a new selection for your library would change that?_

_ Expecting a field day for the personnel- can't say I don't want them to have fun. If yours works out, this'll get rarer as we go- should have told them to kiss good workdays goodbye._

_Not expecting a capture. Unless they learn on the fly, I'm expecting Red to stay put for the next couple of days- think they'll surprise us at all?_

_ Event today confirms eval reports for 2532196: the Smith-Kensington complex's upper end looks like a tame kitten compared to some of them- I doubt you could handle these ones alone._

_But then again, that's why you've got me, isn't it?_

_/END FILE 1 OF 2/_

_/DELETION COMPLETE/_

_/STARTING FILE 2 OF 2/_

_FROM: CODE NAME WARRIOR_

_TO: CODE NAME COAL MINER_

_SUBJECT: Re: PROGRESS REPORT/OPERATION FARMHAND_

_ All roads share a beginning. It's where the end of the road leads that counts. I stand by my judgment. The exercise is part of the same process._

_Let the CDIs have their fun- but don't damage the subjects. We gave up 197 Sierra- we're not about to lose any more. Any 'accidents' are on your head- I don't care if you made me, or what Charlie-Alpha says. Keep the personnel in check. But that shouldn't be a problem for you. __Shouldn't it?_

_ And as for Red's whereabouts for the next few days: Was I so different once?_

_I told Charlie-Alpha about the Smith-Kensington problem- the 300 are nothing like I was. I was a slave- so I was quiet. They are not. He doesn't care, and I'm not complaining- we'll funnel it. It's our most abundant resource._

_ This is discomfiting, to say the least. Was it like this when I was made? Who did you have, besides Delta?_

_/END FILE 2 OF 2/_

_/DELETION COMPLETE/_


	6. Chapter 5: Reactions Under Fire

**CHAPTER 05**

**1910 HOURS, 14 FEBRUARY 2533 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**FOREST NEAR SPARTAN-III TRAINING FACILITY KNOWN AS CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

The clack-clack of weapons fire sounded through the night air, jarring Cole to his bones. At the noise, every member of Falcon threw themselves down to the floor and lay as still as possible. It was unbearable. If they called out to see who it was, they'd be shot. If they moved to look up, they'd be shot. If they turned on a light just to look around, they would be shot, plain and simple.

As minute by agonizing minute passed, they heard the bursts of ammunition exiting carbine barrels, punctuated every so often with a cry of 'Ow!' or 'Ah!'- Cole quickly nudged Leon hard in the arm. When Leon turned, Cole whispered, as loudly as he dared, "We gotta move- if it becomes still they'll see us!" Leon nodded, then made short waving movements with his arms- silent for "Let's go." And with that, Team Falcon rolled through the thick underbrush, causing a rustle, a tiny noise and disruption compared to the almighty commotion the gunfire and yells were raising. It was like a signal flare to the candidates: one that signaled STAY AWAY. And the almost-three hundred Spartan trainees did exactly that.

Falcon rushed through the undergrowth, stopping only when they collided with another group side-on. Leon's loud "OW!" sent Cole's heart racing- that was as good as 'Shoot right here' as far as the guards were concerned. Yanking both Leon's and Eve's shirt collars, he tugged them along with him through the forest, Tyler moving alongside as smoothly as if there had been no collision. Naomi had gone even further- hurtling up a tree trunk, she now ran above the team among the branches. Not only did she keep up with them whilst leaping through the fragile branches, she actually moved ahead to scout ahead for the rest. Cole took it as a warning when several large nuts, each the size of his fist, hit him on the head. Stopping immediately, he released Eve and Leon, who had mud all over their fronts and feet, and were none too happy about that. Tyler crouched next to them.

Being sure to stay as quiet possible, Cole whispered, "Map?" Leon nodded, then produced the map. With a soft _pat_, Naomi landed next to the rest. All of them crowded together to obscure the light from their flashlights as they read the map. It was uncomfortable, but effective- Team Flacon resembled nothing so much as a boulder. Looking down, his neck at an angle, Cole saw that Naomi's warning had been sound- if they had run just another few feet, they would have run headlong into the line of fire one of the guards' pillboxes. Sighing with relief, he began to extricate himself from the tangled mess that was Falcon, but stopped as soon as he heard several soft footsteps.

Looking around at the other four heads that comprised the inside of the 'boulder', he saw that they all shared the same panicked look. Hardly daring to breathe, Cole hoped that whoever it was would simply move on. What happened next was wholly unexpected, to say the least.

A hand laid itself softly across the back of his leg, causing him to inhale sharply and retract the leg. Now unable to balance himself on one leg, he fell to the forest floor, shortly followed by the rest of Falcon. Gasping for breath with the weight of his four teammates on his chest, Cole turned his head- with some difficulty- and looked at their newfound company. If they were DIs, they wouldn't even need to try and capture Falcon- simply putting them in a sack and hauling them off might work.

He sighed with relief when the light from the flashlight- now no longer trapped by Falcon's bodies- illuminated five figures far too small to be DIs- they were Team Raven. He immediately regretted the exhalation- Leon's elbow pressed even further in his chest, actually causing him to squirm and grunt in discomfort. "Help- get off- please… now…" Through the harsh half-light of the flashlight, he saw the five figures of Team Raven reach and tug at various areas in the pile, and Team Falcon was free within the minute. Dusting themselves off, Falcon stood straight and saw Raven in full relief. They were Audrey, Reese, Karen, Neil, and, Cole noticed as the breath inexplicably disappeared from his lungs, Pam- A016, A101, A285, A099 and A171 respectively. Audrey nodded, and Raven got their things and prepared to move. Pam smiled at all of Falcon as she left, but Cole got the feeling he was the only one who felt winded as she did so. It took fingers snapping in front of his face- Leon's- that brought him to. Even after his awakening, Leon frowned at him with one raised eyebrow. The moment seemed to stretch on for ages… until Cole noticed that Raven was headed straight for the pillbox marked on Falcon's map. For a moment, the thought _that doesn't make sense…_ flashed through Cole's head. The next, he was flying through the air, arms outstretched. With a strangled cry, he crashed into Raven, bowling half the team to the ground.

And all hell broke loose.

Lights lit up the area as if it were daytime, immediately followed by the distinctive _crack-cracks_ of MA5K carbines. Audrey and Reese collapsed immediately, clutching at their arms and chests with their faces contorted in pain. Cole grabbed hold of two arms- he did not care whose- and ran as if his life depended on it. Within a second, the rest of Falcon was with him, Leon and Tyler supporting a limp figure between them. Even in the din of the weapons fire, Cole clearly heard a harsh voice call out, "Into the forest- find them! Shoot on sight! Go, go, go!" followed by heavy thudding footsteps. Cole's heart sank- the DIs weren't carrying fellow troops, and they were faster and stronger- their exercise was about to come to an abrupt end.

As the MA5Ks sounded out again, Cole heard a shrill voice cry out, "AAAAARGH!" immediately preceding a dull_ thud_ and two strangled yelps. Slowing, he turned and looked back.

Naomi had once again taken to the trees, apparently jumping down on the DIs and knocking one out. She wrested the MA5K from the unconscious instructor's grasp, and sprayed a hail of rubber bullets at the second one. Within two seconds, the second DI lay next to the first, out cold. Naomi relieved them of their weapons and ammo clips, handing the second MA5K to Eve, who also appropriated three clips. More footsteps sounded through the jungle. Cole prepared to move, but was stopped by a vice-like grip on his shoulder. Looking back, he saw Leon. Even in the dark, he could see Leon's silhouette shake its head, then crouch to the ground. The dark figures of Tyler and the unconscious Spartan he carried also sank to the ground, impossible to spot against the dark ground. Cole nodded, just in case Leon could still see him, and lowered himself to the ground as well.

The next few minutes were agonizingly slow- the crouching members of Falcon listened with straining ears to hear the signs of their pursuit, flinching whenever they heard an adult voice, and hoping in the seconds afterwards that their movements hadn't been spotted. After what seemed like an eternity in a half, they heard the now-faint footsteps of the DIs fade away into the forest. Cole sighed deeply then noted- with his ears- that Tyler and Leon had followed suit. Turning his light on, he observed the remnants of Raven. Neil and Pam sat and felt themselves out for stun wounds, wincing every now and then as they found a sore spot. Karen still lay, breathing shallowly, against the ground.

Cole hardly dared to breathe. Any minute the DIs could come patrolling, even if they weren't looking for Falcon and Raven. And then they'd have to fight their way through. With one unconscious squadmate and two more feeling somewhat delicate, it would be quite the task. But then again, they had Leon, and Eve and Naomi _did _have weapons, so maybe it wasn't _that _lopsided. All the same, they could not afford to be sitting pretty. And they were only two hours into the exercise. Maybe the trick wasn't rushing this. A thought popped into his head, dispelling the notion immediately. _They'll capture more of us the longer we wait_. Cole gulped audibly. If the eight of Falcon and Raven were the only ones left, it was a sure bet that every DI would be hell-bent on finding them. The only solution: get in fast. Get out faster.

Tyler seemed to have reached the same conclusion, because just as Cole opened his mouth, a voice that was not his own cut through the darkness. "Maybe we should get moving?" Lon's silhouette nodded, and Leon's voice penetrated the gloom. "All right. Check for injuries."

As it turned out, Neil had taken two stun rounds in the back and one in the ankle- in no position to walk. Pam was little better- the guards' shots had effectively hamstrung her, hitting her at least a dozen times in the back of the leg. Karen, out cold on the ground, had a face that looked like the victim of a bee attack- she had been facing the DIs when they'd opened fire- the rubber rounds had hit her all over her front, raising angry red sores all over- or at least they would be red if the night wasn't pitch-black.

Leon spoke again, his voice sounding ever-so-slightly like Eternal Spring's, disembodied in its own way. "All right. Tyler, you take-" but Tyler was already helping Neil up. Leon then moved over to Karen and supported her on his shoulder. Cole and Tyler offered no help or comment- Leon was the strongest of them, and it wouldn't be the smartest thing to encumber Eve and Naomi. As Pam used his arm to haul herself up, Cole was surprised at how hard her pull was. His mind raced. _HOW_ had he managed to pull both her and Neil, both half-conscious and immobile, through a half mile of trackless wood? The sound of footsteps- Tyler's- ended that train of thought. He could puzzle it out later. As Tyler passed him, Cole could have sworn his teammate had nodded ever so slightly. But before he could add to the ever-lengthening train of questions in his head, Leon spoke again. "All right- we're moving out, and we don't rest until can't move. Eve, you're rearguard. Naomi, take point." Both of Falcon's girls nodded- Eve took up her place behind Tyler and Leon, and Naomi practically sprinted up the nearest tree. Leon's voice, eerily loud in the dark, sounded again. "All right, everyone? Good. Falcon, move out." As they proceeded to do just that, Cole wondered just how deeply Leon had taken Mendez' lessons on orders.

The going was smooth, albeit tiring. And as Cole found out, it didn't take long for the Tyler, Cole and he, supporting Team Raven, to tire. Eve and Naomi remained speechless, moving when the others did, and staying still to keep watch when they rested. Or at least Eve did. Naomi was nowhere within either sight or earshot. After several hours, they finally stopped where three trees grew close together. They had been running for what seemed like days to Cole- they only knew it had been two hours since they'd started moving because Leon had checked his watch using his flashlight, and with his over-large shirt to hide the light. It was 2300 hours- 2 hours past his bedtime. Cole choked as he remembered- all that was gone. That was why he was doing this. All the same, a single tear emerged from his eye, only to be wiped away. A single head, the one connected to the figure supporting itself on his shoulder, turned in his direction at the sudden motion.

Leon set Karen down gently, then murmured into the canopy. "Naomi- you there?" With grace that would have shamed a leopard, Naomi seemingly dropped out of thin air, landing on her feet in a crouch. With a grin that took in her hears, she said to Leon, "Reporting for duty- _sir_." Leon narrowed his eyes at the sarcasm, but then turned to the rest of them. Keeping his eyes wide, he told them all, "All right- we're resting here- change the watch every hour. When everyone's kept watch, we all wake and move out." The eight Spartans climbed into the space between the three trees- the closeness of the trunks and roots made it reasonably good cover. Cole rested himself inside a small overhang created by a particularly large root, and spent a few minutes trying to get comfortable. He was asleep in five more.

A rough shove on his shoulder half-woke him. It took the familiar _crack-crack_ of assault rifles firing to finish the job. Leaping up, he felt searing pain across his shoulder as a stun round impacted his upper arm. Tyler was yelling, "Go! I'll hold them here! GO!" even as he opened fire into the woods, drawing screams of pain from the DIs he hit with his return fire. Not even conscious of his own actions, Cole simply sprinted away- away from those bullets, from the fighting, away from everything…

It took another series of _cracks_ to his side to bring him to- they'd caught up to him. Turning on his heel, he sprinted straight to his left, feeling only a slight snag beneath his foot before he tripped and fell-

-and unleashed a massive BOOM and flash of blinding white light. Cole fell to the ground on his side, then scrambled to get up, all the while blinking flashes of blue and green from his field of vision. A series of _thud-thuds_ coincided with sickening pain that erupted all over his back, legs and skull. Cole ran on, taking a grand total of four steps before collapsing and falling flat on his face. Scrambling and thrashing on the ground to get up again, Cole noticed something curious. Darkness was in the corners of his vision… now he could only see a little through the darkness, like light at the end of a tunnel… and then the darkness was absolute.


	7. Chapter 6: Legacies

**CHAPTER 06**

**0615 HOURS, 15 FEBRUARY 2533 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

Cole awoke with his head pounding. Kneading his temples gently, he tried to remember the events leading up to unconsciousness- he definitely remembered gunfire… there was also a big white flash, then just darkness. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked around. The room he was in seemed peculiar- it was covered in panels that seemed pillow-like in shape and texture. Even the floors and ceiling were covered in them. Set into the far wall was a gray door, not altogether different from the one to the Spartan barracks.

Crossing the room, Cole tried the doorknob. Locked- _hardly a surprise_, Cole thought to himself, returning across the room to the bedstead he'd been sitting on. It was just then that he'd made both the journey to the door and the return trip in complete silence. There wasn't even the soft _pat-pat_ his feet made against soft surfaces- this one was entirely silent. Cole knelt down to the floor and punched into it as hard as he could- and apart from an extremely well-muffled _bump_, there was no noise- and no pain. The entire room might as well have been made of pillows. But before he could explore the possibility, the door opened and a man in a Navy uniform stepped in. He grabbed Cole by the arm and veritably dragged him from the cell, saying as he did so, in a voice that sounded more like a growl, "Chief wants to see you kids." Cole saw no real reason to argue- the Chief talked to them more than any DI ever did.

When they finally reached the briefing room, Cole's eyes widened. Hundreds were gathered there- it looked like practically all of Alpha Company. With a jolt, he saw Leon, Naomi, Eve and Tyler. Tyler was asleep- Cole expected no less- but the rest of Falcon was alert, straight-backed and wide-eyed. Now that he got a proper look, it seemed everyone was here- or almost everyone. Behind him, the same Navy-uniformed man ushered in a few more people- one from Team Cheetah, another from Team Viper and couple more from Team Wolverine. With that, he sighed and left the room. Cole's mind was racing again. What would Mendez want with all three hundred of them? The mission had been botched. Maybe that was the reason.

Cole knew that he would regret being right sometimes. At that moment, Mendez walked into the room, looking as though he was struggling to see a fly that had perched right between his eyes in the dark, giving him a look that was the dangerous combination of glare and squint. He stopped right in front of Alpha Company, saying nothing for a full minute, simply breathing deeply through his nose. The silence was deafening. At last, when Cole thought his head would explode from the sheer suspense, Mendez spoke- but did not yell. His voice was deathly quiet- Cole tried his best not to imagine three hundred freshly-dug graves.

"You failed. All of you. The three hundred of you did not manage to take the flag." Not a voice was raised in protest, and Cole didn't blame Alpha for remaining silent- he himself felt as if his throat had been cemented shut. Mendez continued. "You did not accomplish your objective- if this were combat you would all be dead. You lasted a total of seven hours out of thirty-six." This sparked some confusion among the candidates as most tried to do the math in their heads. Some of the faster ones went from confused to curious- it was obvious that they hadn't been captured at the seven-hour mark. Mendez raised his hand, and the silent humdrum subsided.

"It was Teams Falcon and Raven that lasted that long." A silent course of _Ohs_ passed down the three hundred, and hundreds of heads craned themselves to look at the two teams. Mendez ploughed on. "But they still _failed_. The best that you could do was last _less_ than a QUARTER of the time allotted. I expected better from Spartans." As he spoke, an image popped into being on the wall behind him, projected from an unseen outlet. Turning so that his side was presented to both the image on the wall and the trainees, Mendez said, in a voice that would not be inappropriate of a mourner, "This was captured on TEAMCAM by a Spartan at the Third Battle of Harvest, two years ago. THIS is the mantle you must live up to." He then fell silent.

The projected image expanded to fill the entire wall. The TEAMCAM identified the view as that of SPARTAN Keiichi-047. Cole couldn't help but gasp- there were _other_ Spartans? But, as so many other times lately, the video continued to play before he could ponder the thought.

It looked like hell had frozen over- dozens of humans ran through the blasted yet snowy landscape, firing their rifles as they ran. Down from the bluff Keiichi had been standing on, three Scorpion tanks rolled towards the as-yet unseen foe, firing their massive turret cannons as they lumbered across the battlefield. And then the blizzard suddenly parted. Luminescent green bolts tore through the snowstorm, flash-boiling any snowflakes unlucky enough to be in the way and accomplishing similar things with any humans that they collided with. Three particularly huge bolts raced towards one of the Scorpions, blowing it apart in a massive emerald explosion, hurling back any Marines close to the vehicle. Most did not get back up. The surviving humans fired at the aliens for all they were worth, downing a fair number of Covenant warriors, from the squat waddling ones right up to the large hunchbacked ones in bright blue and red armor. But it wasn't enough- the alien weapons took down the human soldiers more quickly than the Marines could return the blows. The lieutenant Cole had spoken to so long ago had been right- _we're losing_. Cole wanted to do something- anything- to help the doomed men. His hands clenched into fists, and he felt himself step forward towards the screen- before he remembered that this was a recording. Why wasn't this Spartan _doing_ anything?

It was then that a voice cut through the carnage- "We've got their attention. Good luck and Godspeed." The scene shook slightly as Keiichi nodded his head, and then spun as he turned to his left, bringing another Spartan into view- small green text next to the second Spartan revealed him to be Douglas-042. Cole gasped, and his ears didn't lie- dozens of Alpha's Spartans had also gasped sharply. The Spartan Douglas was wearing the _exact_ same armor Lieutenant Ambrose had greeted them in. A voice, presumably Keiichi's, broke the silence of the two Spartans. The two words he said had Cole's insides in a vice-tight grip.

"Let's go."

Quicker than Cole could blink, Douglas sped away. What amazed Cole even more was that Keiichi was keeping pace, and he inhaled but did not exhale as the screen showed Douglas drawing two M7 submachine guns from panels on his armor. After several seconds of flat-out sprinting, Douglas leapt at least fifteen feet straight into the air, twisting as he did so. At the apex of his leap, the muzzles of his M7 flashed, slicing holes in the Covenant rank. Landing, Douglas emptied his magazines into the chest of a tall yet hunchbacked warrior- an Elite, Cole remembered- whose shields took the brunt of the blasts and finally failed as Douglas dropped the SMGs. Without missing a beat, Douglas closed with the warrior, drew a combat knife and slit the Elite's throat, catching its shimmering blue-white sword as he did so. And it was done all in a single movement. Cole suddenly became aware that not only was he gaping, but a tiny globule of dribble was extending from the corner of his mouth. Letting it fall, he closed his mouth and continued to watch.

By now, Keiichi had turned away from Douglas and was now sprinting towards the huge rounded purple shape of a Covenant Wraith tank. With a single leap, he landed right in front of the vehicle's pilot. Reaching for a seam in the Elite's blue armor, he yanked the Elite out of his seat and hurled him onto the ground. As he slid into the seat, Keiichi's helmet cam showed him yanking on a firing control. At least, that's what it must have been, since a massive blue-green flash appeared in front of the Wraith. When the light subsided, the vehicle's former pilot was gone. Only a scorch mark on the now-exposed rock proved the warrior's fate. Cole gasped again, and then joined the rest of Alpha in semi-coherent protest as the screen paused, and then finally disappeared. His mouth hung open again.

Mendez broke the now tomb-like pall that had descended on the room. "_That_ is the legacy of the Spartans. They are our best hope- our _last_ hope. _They_ cannot afford to fail- and they don't. The Spartans have given us victories- victories that we wouldn't be here without. They are the lynchpin of humanity's survival." Cole could not for the life of him figure out what a lynchpin was, but he didn't feel like interrupting Chief Mendez, who continued to speak. "Humanity's survival rests on their shoulders- and you will carry that burden too. You _cannot_ afford to fail. See to it that you don't. Dismissed." And with that, he turned and left the room without another word.

No-one moved or spoke. Cole's mind went into panic- how could they ever live up to the reputation of Spartans? Even if they had ten years, even if they had twenty years, Cole doubted they would ever be that good.

And he had a sinking feeling they didn't have that long.


	8. Chapter 7: Rebirth

**CHAPTER 07**

**0155 HOURS, 19 DECEMBER 2535 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ABOARD UNSC **_**HOPEFUL**_**, INTERSTELLAR SPACE, SECTOR S-117**

**ALMOST THREE YEARS AFTER FAILED ALPHA COMPANY TRAINING EXERCISE**

The fleet of twenty Pelican dropship landed gently in the hangar bay of UNSC _Hopeful_, the Fleet's renowned 'flying hospital'. As the _Hopeful_'s hangar doors squealed shut, hydraulic pistons screamed as twenty sets of doors slid open and became ramps. A dull _thud-thud-thud_ filled the massive room as six hundred boots, belonging to the three hundred Spartans of Alpha Company, made their way across the hangar bay, their footfalls growing more thunderous by the second. But then again, Kurt mused, that might have just been because they all marched in step. In five orderly columns of sixty, the three hundred ten- and eleven- year olds marched to med lab Delta-3, where they would take the final step on their road to becoming Spartans. Kurt smiled. After the disastrous training exercise Alpha had endured at the very start of their training, they had not failed once. Mendez had even requested the use of Shortsword bombers once to try to keep them from their objective. They had still succeeded. But his smile disappeared as he remembered what else had to be done. Due to the starkness of the maturity problem- a fully grown Spartan could outrun and outfight a half-grown one, no matter what augmentations the younger would receive- puberty had to be induced in Alpha Company's Spartans- some of the younger candidates were only four at indoctrination- they would be seven now.

So human growth hormone, testosterone and various other growth accelerants had been used, and the result- the older children of the class, the ten and eleven-year olds, now looked fifteen or so, and the younger ones looked like they were pushing thirteen. It would have to suffice. At any rate, the augmentations would still give them the strength, speed and reactions of two fully-grown Marines- no one could ask for more.

Kurt's straight face actually became a frown as he glanced down to his datapad. As a result of the induced puberty, the candidates were beginning to display some of the other signs of growth- as ONI had so eloquently termed it- _undesired side-effects_. Kurt's eyes narrowed as he thought it through one final time. True, some of the candidates had been growing close- even with Spartans outside their fire team. And although personal relations were not technically forbidden by the UNSC Military Codes of Conduct, they were frowned upon. Kurt sighed as the argument he had given flashed through his head, followed with the image of two ONI officers looking as though their heads had been replaced by steamed lobsters. _I don't care what your suspicions are- they are my men and my women and they are my responsibility. _Amazingly, Ackerson had stood by him on this- it wasn't the first time Kurt wondered just how much the Colonel had running on the SPARTAN-III project. At any rate, one of the augmentations was a hormonal stimulant that controlled the release of hormones from the various glands. Meant to stimulate the production of adrenaline, it had the nasty side-effect of countering other hormonal influxes. Normally, this just meant blood-sugar troubles as the pancreas didn't respond to the body's need for insulin or glucagon, but, as the SPARTAN-IIs had demonstrated when they had been modified, it also suppressed the subject's sex drive- which was primarily what ONI was afraid might be the issue. Kurt bit his lip. It sure wasn't a guarantee that ONI would like it, but then again, it was said that the spooks thrived on technicalities- if that was true, they'd love this one.

The Lieutenant's eyes brightened as he left the raised catwalk for med bay Delta-3 - to oversee the rebirth of Alpha Company.

* * *

Cole eyed the infusion chamber doubtfully. "_This_ is what's gonna turn us into Spartans?" he asked, failing to keep a tone of derision out of his voice. The failure cost him a bruised shoulder, courtesy of Leon, who'd grown almost as tall as Chief Mendez, and if Cole didn't know any better, he'd bet everything he had on Leon coming out on top if the two mixed it up.

A swarm of medical orderlies descended on the Spartans and chivvied them into the isolated chambers, drawing up blinds and curtains around them to ensure the Spartans weren't cognizant of anything going wrong in the nearest pod. Not that anything would, Cole hoped. Lieutenant Ambrose had showed them videos of the SPARTAN-II program, especially of the augmentations, which had left half the trainees either dead or too weak even to stand in a breeze. Cole remembered how not a single SPARTAN-III had backed out of the procedure, and also recalled the iron certitude of his own decision to undergo the augmentation. Looking at the metal cylinder, with dozens of uplinks to devices that did goodness only knew what; he wondered how he could ever have been so sure.

At the urging of the Navy orderlies, he climbed into the infusion chamber, and calmed himself as the transparent door of the chamber closed, leaving him isolated from the world except by sight. He looked up and down, observing his new immediate surroundings. Aside from several sealed compartments in the chamber walls, the only feature in the slightly-cramped space was a mask, with a gas hose linking it to the wall. The whole thing stood maybe six feet tall- Cole couldn't extend his arms far past his head before they hit metal. Sighing, he lay them down by his side and waited for something- anything- to happen.

It was a few minutes before he noticed motion outside his chamber. The two orderlies were gesturing through the transparent plastic, at one point even knocking on it, to get his attention. When he turned his gaze to them, one gave a relieved sigh- or it might have been exasperation- it was hard to tell. They then gestured at him, cupping one palm, then placing it over their faces. Cole turned to the mask, cupped it over his face, then placed the twin straps attached to it over his head, securing it to his head. To his surprise, there was no mouthpiece- the mask covered all of his face up to just beneath his eyes, so all he had to do was breathe normally. The two orderlies outside then ceased their antics. One immediately strode out of Cole's sight, while the second flashed him a quick thumbs-up, and then followed suit. Cole leaned back against the slightly-inclined wall of the chamber, and waited once again for something to happen.

It was another few minutes before he felt something- it was becoming harder and harder to keep his eyes open. Again and again his eyelids drooped, and again he shook his head and blinked rapidly to bring them up again. But invariably, his vision would begin to cloud and darken again. Cole stubbornly fought to stay awake, even biting his lip and pinching himself to try to fight off the onset of urge to snooze off. _Just give up,_ a small voice on the back of his head went, _isn't it obvious? You HAVE to be asleep- it's OBVIOUSLY very painful…_ Cole often forgot how snide his inner voice could be. But a different voice, a voice he hadn't heard before, spoke up. _And what if no-one else nodded off? What if they endured it- fought off the narcotic, stayed awake through the pain? What would you say then? The Lieutenant said that this was the final test- the FINAL test…_ At that, Cole's eyes shot open, and his thoughts sharpened to crystalline clarity- he would endure this, just as his predecessors had done- just as all Spartans would do.

After roughly another minute of breathing sedative-laced air, Cole heard a slight _hiss_ as over two dozen tiny flaps opened, and the compartments revealed their contents- tiny syringes on the ends of robotic arms.

The automated arms reached forward silently, syringe needles extended. Cole braced for it, expecting the worst.

The needles puncturing his skin didn't feel like much- there was only a slight itch as they actually broke the skin. Cole sighed with relief- he had honestly been expecting the insertion to be much more painful.

What he felt in the next few seconds immediately made him regret his complacency. It felt like his entire body was under attack- Cole's eyes clamped shut and he gritted his teeth, trying fruitlessly to block out the agony.

Fire seared along his insides and filled every inch of his body, flowing along with his own blood- the one small still-rational part of him seriously doubted that drinking nitroglycerine would be this painful. His extremities twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, rejecting any impulses from his nerves even as the messages reporting the torture his system was undergoing shot up to his brain at twice their normal speed- he could feel and sense literally everything going on in his body- and torture would pale in comparison.

And then it really started. Another wave- no, a shock- of pain lanced through his bones as ceramic carbide polymers were infused into his skeleton. According to the Lieutenant, this would make his bones almost indestructible- a lot of use that would be if he died receiving the graft. And in tandem with the pain in his very bones was a crushing sensation- every system in his body felt as though it was being smothered, as his suddenly hyper-dense muscles tried desperately to find room to expand. Cole gasped and sputtered, trying to gulp down air, all the while feeling fire burn in his blood, ice streaking through his bones, and having the life crushed out of him by his own muscles. And to top it all off, the electrical nerve impulses rocketed across his nervous system and through his brain, stripped down and streamlined by the agent that would grant him increased reflexes and improved coordination- along with a skull-shattering headache to boot.

Twitching and trembling, Cole's head turned left and right, desperately trying to bring on a sensation- _any_ sensation- that would drown out the endless, indescribable agony. In doing so, he looked up. And in that brief moment, one of the orderlies supervising him caught his eye.

His open eye.

The man gaped and dropped his datapad, rushing off to the side to grab his partner, who appeared along with him in under a second. The two started arguing immediately, both gesturing frantically towards Cole, who was still quaking with pain, and away from him. Then one rushed off- obviously to tell someone- and the one who remained immediately brought up a bank of monitors, biting his lip as he glanced every so often up at Cole to check on him. Unfortunately, at this point, the pain entered Cole's eyes. As ever, it was indescribable- the last comparison his frantic mind drew was of having his eyes removed with a hacksaw. Cole clamped them shut- the pain was too great for him to process anything he saw. At some point, it became easier and easier to just sit through the blackness… the pain began to slowly drift away into nothingness… he thought he might have felt a slight tickle in a few places, but that was surely nothing… he just wanted to sleep now…

"He's steady now… we thought the shock would kill him…"

"Didn't you use the sedatives?"

"We did, but he kept fighting them. Once the infusions started, the brain received too many extreme stimuli to just be knocked out- the only way to do it would be to make him pass out, which is what happened."

"I see."

"Look- he's coming to…"

Cole blearily opened his eyes. The two orderlies in charge of his infusion were standing there, white as sheets. Besides them were Chief Mendez and Lieutenant Ambrose, who both eyed him closely, drinking in every visible detail of his condition. Behind the Chief stood, Leon, Tyler, Naomi and Eve, all wide-eyed and silent. For some reason, Cole's heart sank, but it did feel good to not be in unbearable pain, so he rose from the chamber, giving them all a tentative smile as he did so. Color flooded into every face in the area- even Tyler's.

The only warning Cole had of what was coming was Leon closing in on him. The next thing he knew, he'd received a very painful thump on the shoulder, courtesy of Falcon's leader. Rubbing the throbbing spot, he countered, albeit less aggressively. "So, you got muscles." Leon's only response was a wry grin.

Chief Mendez spoke next. "That was a damn foolish thing to do, Spartan. You could have gone into shock and died- we're actually all surprised that you didn't."

Lieutenant Ambrose spoke next, and relief drowned out Cole's apprehension when he saw Ambrose wore a smile. "Good thing you're a Spartan- otherwise I'd tell you not to put yourself in danger again."

There was a small general chuckle, after which a datapad gave a loud _beep_, its screen flashing blue through the otherwise silent scene. One of the orderlies looked down at it, then without a word, looked back up. Cole frowned.

"What was that?"

The orderly shook his head nonchalantly. "We've just been getting alerts from the main med bay, that's all." Composing his face, he looked straight down at Cole. "Well, it's all over. You're a Spartan now, physically and mentally."

Tyler inserted a rare comment. "The whole package, in other words."

Lieutenant Ambrose spoke up again. "All right, back to the Pelicans, everyone, we've taken up enough time-" he glanced at Cole, "and fuss." And with that, he, Chief Mendez, and Team Falcon left for the main hangar bay. At the same time, the two orderlies left the room through a door on the opposite side of the room, leading to the central decks of the _Hopeful_. Cole delayed for just a second, and then glanced down at the data tablet, curious as to what the alert had been. His breath failed him.

_Spartan-A171 requesting access to patient Spartan-A299. Denied on Chief's orders- standing condition: squadmates only._

There were thirteen more copies of the same message. Before Cole could continue puzzling it out, a voice rang out from the hangar bays- Leon's.

"Hey Cole! You coming or not?"

Cole cleared his throat. "Sure!" he called back, and then sprinted out of the room.

A small part of him wondered about what he'd just read, but a growing part of him warmed at a single, inextinguishable thought.

He had passed the final hurdle. He was a true Spartan.


	9. Chapter 8: Pieces of the Puzzle

**CHAPTER 08**

**0735 HOURS, 31 DECEMBER 2535 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

Alpha Company, complete with ponchos, traipsed across the drop field through torrential rain on their route to the armory. Most had considered the ponchos a bit much- Cole honestly didn't mind, but some considered their use 'soft'. Mendez had replied, "All right- we'll also send you in against the Covenant with your boxers and your fists. That sound all right?" When no-one replied, Mendez then promptly pounced and then told them all politely- as far as the Chief's standards went- to stop making stupid comments.

But there had been a reason for it. A joke at breakfast had been that the Lieutenant didn't want any of his Spartans to die of pneumonia, preferring that the Covenant do the job. Cole had laughed with everyone else, but now, as he slogged through the ankle-deep water, he considered it a valid reason for wearing ponchos.

Chief Mendez was waiting for them at the entrance to the armory. As Alpha approached, the Chief gestured to a set of racks outside the door, and even held the door open as Alpha slowly took off their drenched ponchos and entered the armory complex. Once they were all inside, Mendez closed the door and spoke.

"Your training has prepared you perfectly for your usage of the equipment I'm about to show you- you're about as good as anyone I've trained- now you're gonna be better." When some cocked their eyebrows or curled their lips, the Chief turned on a light in the spiraling staircase into the lower levels of the building.

It took several minutes for all of Alpha Company to enter the now-underground rooms of the deeper armory levels, but when they had, Chief Mendez turned on all lights in the room. Cole had to blink several times to take it all in.

Thirty rows of ten full-sized lockers stood in the room. Along the walls lay every weapon Alpha had ever trained with- and a few with which they hadn't- on racks. There were grenades, rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns, submachine-guns, SPNKR rocket launchers- every weapon Cole could name, and one or two that he couldn't remember. Before anyone could move towards the weapons, though, Mendez spoke again.

"Make your way to the lockers first- your ID will be on the locker's door. Take what's inside first before you touch any of the weapons."

Being numbered A299 came with a slight disadvantage for Cole- his locker was in the far corner of the armory, with one reading A298 on one side and another reading A300 on the other. He reached his locker, and, taking several deep breaths to calm himself down, slowly opened the door.

His mouth fell open in shock.

Standing there, slightly taller than he was, was a suit of armor. The suit glistened grey-green in the light of the underground room. It looked similar to the one the Lieutenant had worn when he'd greeted them, but it looked different- some of the components were different, looking more like the mail of Roman legionaries than Ambrose's MJOLNIR armor. It was neither as imposing nor as awe-inspiring as the MJOLNIR, but it had most of the basics- a ventilator in the helmet for hazmat ops, full body coverage for all-round protection and a sealed environment for vacuum ops, and an armored bodysuit under the armor plates, as a last resort. But best of all was the polarized golden faceplate- the Spartans would be terrors to the Covenant, faceless and nameless, save by the one name the Covenant gave them all- demons.

Cole smiled. They would be demons on the field- they could run faster and hit harder than any Covenant warrior. They could move more quietly and more efficiently than the best Jackal sniper. And to top it off, they never died. Lieutenant Ambrose had told them of ONI Directive 930- no Spartan was ever KIA- only MIA or WIA. Incredible how the Covenant had actually come to believe a variant of that. His grin remained plastered to his face as he gazed at the mirrored faceplate- the very reason the Covenant believed the 'demons' never fell in battle.

He removed the suit from the locker with the utmost care, then slowly pulled on the various pieces of the armor. Ten minutes later, he was finished.

The world looked different through his helmet visor- everything seemed darker- like someone had taken a pencil and shaded in the whole world. Feeling over his helmet for a control or switch, he found nothing. He looked around. All of the Alpha Company Spartans were doing similar things to their armor, trying to adjust one thing or another- it seemed that no suit of armor was perfectly adjusted to its wearer. Despite the low yet constant noise the fidgeting and fumbling caused, the Chief spoke up.

"You are wearing SPI armor- Semi-Powered Infiltration armor, if you've got the time of day. There are no manual suit controls- everything is voice-activated. The techies at ONI didn't want Spartans scratching their faces when nukes went off, so all you need to do is speak, and the suit will oblige. Just say 'Commands', and the suit will bring up a list of functions on your HUD. Have fun." And with that, he left the room.

As had happened once before, nobody spoke. Then a small voice- Cole really wasn't sure whose- whispered, "Commands." There was a sudden influx of noise as the rest of Alpha Company murmured "Commands," into their helmets. Cole did the same. On the inside of his visor, small green text popped into being; including the instruction Cole had been looking for. Hopeful that he had hit the nail on the head, he spoke clearly into his helmet.

"Visor: reduce tint."

It was as if someone had turned on a few extra set of lights- the view immediately brightened, and Cole's eyes drank in the illumination. Satisfied with the adjusted view, he whispered, "IFF locator: on" into his helmet, and set out to find the rest of Falcon through the forest of SPI suits.

He found Eve first, but before he could alert her to his presence, his face split into a grin- one of the new commands was just too good to pass up. Making sure his com unit was off, he whispered, "Camo: on." The effect was immediate- he was little more than a shadow. The panels on his armor seemed to copy whatever was behind him, resetting after only a few moments. For all intents and purposes, he was invisible. Being sure not to touch anyone else, he tapped Eve on the shoulder.

Eve swung around, aiming a vicious but blindsided swipe behind her as she wheeled into a crouching position. Noting the shadowy figure in front of her, she leant down to observe it, not stopping until her faceplate was less than an inch from his. Trying for all he was worth to suppress a snigger, Cole whispered, "Camo: off." To Eve, it must have looked like a ghost in front of her suddenly gained a body, because she started back and collided with the row of lockers, creating an almighty _clang_ as she did so. Grinning widely, Cole stood up, activated his com unit, and delivered the punch line.

"Boo."

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny, Cole. What're you sneaking up on me for, anyway? Thought you'd be chasing after 171."

Cole regretted not using a single beam transmission as soon as he heard Leon's voice over TEAMCOM. His one-liner, and Eve's response, had been heard by all of Falcon.

"All right you two, cut the chatter. Grab a weapon- we're going topside. Now."

"Leon, do you _want_ us to die before we can fight against the Covenant? We're gonna drown out there!" Eve spat back across TEAMCOM.

Leon's response was brief and biting. "Not my fault you never learned to swim."

Cole and Eve crossed over to the weapons racks. Cole took an MA5K carbine and half a dozen clips- despite the pain the DIs had inflicted on Alpha Company with them in their first training exercise, the weapon had grown on him. Cole had never really wondered- or cared- why that was so. Eve opted for an M7 submachine-gun instead, preferring to leave the sentimental value of the MA5K behind her. Team Falcon joined the slow stream of Spartans now leaving the bunker, eager to test the SPI suit's effectiveness in appalling conditions. Cole didn't really mind the crowding, but having Eve next to him muttering darkly was putting him on edge. He didn't hear much, although a few times he thought he heard, '…learned to swim…' and '…what kind of line is that?' Outrageously, Eve hadn't taken offense to Leon doubting her, but rather his sense of humor. Cole wondered what Eve would have grown up to be if her home had never been burned. Now that he came to think about it, he was curious- what would _he_ have grown up to be if the Covenant had never come to Eridanus? _No,_ he thought, cutting himself off. He had no time for that. He was a Spartan now. He was a soldier- he could not be anything else.

Sure enough, when he and Eve got outside and rejoined Falcon, it was still pouring rain. By now, the storm clouds were so dark and thick; Cole could hardly believe it was the middle of the morning- it looked more like midnight.

Leon, singularly unperturbed by the incredible downpour, asked the squad to perform spot checks on their equipment. He sported an MA5B assault rifle, the weapon that Cole's carbine was derived from. It was heavier, but more accurate and was about the sleekest-looking weapon in the UNSC arsenal, to hear Leon tell it. Naomi held twin M7 SMGs, one in each hand. While it generally wasn't a good idea to use two high-recoil weapons simultaneously, the augmentations for strength and reflexes allowed a Spartan to do just that, and to do it damn well. Tyler carried an M6 magnum pistol in his right hand, and strapped across his back was an M-19 SPNKr rocket launcher. Cole had to admire Tyler's nerve- using a rocket, even a dummy rocket, in a forest in the rain would be better than a signal flare at giving away their location.

He never got the chance to tell Tyler this; at that moment the squad's com units crackled to life, and the Chief's voice filled Cole's helmet.

"All right, Spartans, now that you've got new toys; it's time to test them out. First team to me wins. Good luck."

Team Falcon looked at each other for about a single second, and then broke into a full-out sprint for the forest. It was roughly a minute before Cole's peripheral vision picked anything up, but after seeing blurred motion at the edges of his view, he glanced to his right briefly, and then looked to his left.

Hundreds of Spartans raced towards the forests edge with massive dirt-gouging strides, powering towards cover at over thirty kilometers per hour. Several were checking the safeties on their weapons, and others had their weapons up and trained- on other teams. This would not be a simple footrace.

Cole smiled to himself. This would be harrowing, an exercise that would pit Spartan against Spartan for what would likely be hours, until one of the teams finally limped to Mendez's side to claim bragging rights, with their members probably too winded to walk, let alone fight.

And he wouldn't have it any other way. No Spartan would.


	10. Chapter 9: New Constantinople

**CHAPTER 09**

**1145 HOURS, 5 SEPTEMBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**UNSC **_**NORMANDY**_**, IN HIGH ORBIT OVER NEW CONSTANTINOPLE, DELTA TAURI SYSTEM**

Spartan A299 opened his eyes and straightened himself. Almost immediately, eh could tell that something wasn't right, but he didn't know what that some thing was. A moment later, though, it was all crystal clear.

Cole coughed and sputtered, clearing the anti-freezing agent that coated the interior of his lungs. While necessary to prevent his lungs being shattered as the water in their cells expanded, it made it as hard as hell to actually breathe, and gave one a nasty whooping cough as they tried to get rid of it. A series of coughing fits erupting around him told Cole that he was not alone. Pushing the control to his cryostasis pod's door, he waited patiently as the portal slowly opened. Climbing out, he pulled on a pair of underwear and a grey regulation jumpsuit. In order to prevent damage to skin tissue, all clothing had to be removed before the cryonics kicked in and froze the fabric stiffer than Titanium-A armor. As with the anti-freezing chems, it was necessary, but hardly pleasant. Now fully dressed, Cole made his way to the adjoining armory.

The armory was a long, low room with four rows of seventy-five lockers lined up side by side. Cole made his way to the locker labeled A299. Unlike Camp Currahee's lockers, though, these had been arranged so that each Spartan's locker was grouped with the rest of their squad's- adjacent to locker A299 were lockers A127 and A176- Tyler's and Leon's lockers, respectively. In less than two minutes, he was fully dressed in battle gear, with his SPI armor on, an M6 magnum pistol secured to a magnetic clamp on his leg armor, and a fully loaded MA5K in his hands. Cole felt more complete now- Mendez had drilled weapons usage into them, and each Spartan-III thought of their weapon more as an extendable hand as a piece of equipment.

Cole left the room just as the rest of Alpha Company entered and prepped their own gear. Cole smiled to himself. He might have a head start, but the rest would catch up in no time. Besides, he'd noticed that a group of Spartans were not with the nearly 300 others. Someone had gotten up before even him. Cole took a right hand turn, into an elevator that would take him to the SOEIV deployment bay. Pushing the 'down' button, he leaned against the elevator wall, whistling to pass the time as the elevator descended.

When the elevator had whirred to a stop, he got out and made his way through another set of labyrinthine passages in the bowels of the _Normandy_. How anyone ever found their way around the ship was Cole's guess- he was already having trouble not getting lost, and he had only had to remember the location of three things- the cryo pods, the armory, and the deployment bay. He felt a small stab of pity for the skeleton crew that would man the ship while the rest of the crew was took a long cold-induced nap.

Entering the deployment bay at long last, he had his suspicions confirmed. Teams Raven and Lynx were already waiting by their respective pods. Cole started towards Falcon's, reassured by the dull rumbling of hundreds of footsteps filling the hallway- his fire team was arriving, along with the rest of Alpha Company.

The various teams all occupied their respective pods without any noise or fuss- they had been briefed on their mission just after departure form Onyx, and it had been more than clear what they were supposed to do.

New Constantinople was many things- minor military hub, home to four million citizens, a showcase of some of the most stunning mountain ranges and forests in the Outer Colonies, and the site of a small abandoned Forerunner city. ONI had, of course, immediately cordoned off the site and declared it off-limits, spending millions of credits trying to delve out a clue of some sort as to what had happened to the mysterious race. They'd done it in a dozen places- Cote D'Azur on Sigma Octanus IV, Kinpalai Colony in the Alpha Hydrae system, New Mere City on Madrigal, and a bunch of other places besides. From what Cole had heard, ONI had even been searched a Forerunner site in the middle of a war zone during the Third Battle of Harvest, five long years ago.

But of course, the Forerunner sites drew Covenant forces like bees to nectar. And invariably, the UNSC fought back. While powerful, the aliens were not subtle. HIGHCOM had learned by now that it was wisest to concentrate its forces on planets with evidence of a Forerunner presence, and keep the Covenant from getting their four-fingered hands on any and all Forerunner tech- the genocidal aliens had enough of an advantage as it was.

The 34th Fleet had been engaging the Covenant forces in space for almost a week, an incredible feat considering the UNSC ships were totally outgunned by their Covenant counterparts. But Vice Admiral Whitcomb had been unable to stop the Covenant from landing ground troops on the surface. And as soon as they had touched down, the Covenant infantry had made a beeline for the ONI excavations going on in the Forerunner city.

The only problem with New Constantinople had been that ONI hadn't actually found anything in the Forerunner ruins. But the Covenant had come anyway- so there was _something_ there. Alpha Company's orders had been clear: deploy to Area 52, as the site was known, and hold the Covenant off long enough to recover whatever Forerunner artifacts had been left behind and get them off-planet, or failing that destroy the artifacts.

Cole clambered into his Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle- or drop pod for short. The nineteen-foot tall angular metal 'eggs' were used to deploy troops rapidly into a combat zone. Normally, riding in SOEIVs was the exclusive province of the Marine Corps' Orbital Drop Shock Troopers- the closest thing the Corps had to having Spartans of its own. But in this case, the four hundred seventy-six ODSTs on board _Normandy_ had been passed up for this mission by three hundred teenagers without a lick of real combat experience. Though nothing was ever said, Cole could tell that the Helljumpers, as ODSTs called themselves, were seething over the humiliation. Cole finally ended the train of thought as a voice boomed over the ship's PA system.

"All right Sierra Group- we're directly over Area 52 now. Good luck down there. Give 'em hell."

Cole smiled as he heard the final sentence. The UNSC had won precious few victories in its war against the Covenant, but one thing it never failed to do was give the aliens hell- they had always extracted a high price for a Covenant victory. Every single one.

In a rush of gray, the interior of UNSC _Normandy_ was replaced by the black of space, with New Constantinople a massive blue-green circle beneath the three hundred pods. Despite the knowledge that Alpha Company would soon be engaged in mortal combat against innumerable alien soldiers, the trip down felt almost- relaxing. Their descent was totally silent- no-one used the com channels. As New Constantinople loomed large below them, Cole felt an almost-imperceptible change. His pod rattled ever so slightly as it fell. However, after a while it wasn't quite so imperceptible.

As if on cue, Leon's voice echoed through the com units. "All right, Spartans, we're entering the upper atmosphere!" At that moment, Cole's pod shook violently as it made the transition from the zero pressure of space to the low pressure of the upper atmosphere. After the initial discomfort, the ride smoothed out again, and the three hundred pods coasted through the air, all the while emitting faint orange gleams as their titanium coats were tested by their supersonic descent through the atmosphere. The friction didn't overly concern Cole- the pods were built to be immune to small weapons fire- if that were true, then they'd have nothing to worry about on the way down.

All too soon, though, Leon's voice called out again. "All right, Alpha- deploy drag chutes on my mark!" Cole flexed his hand as Leon counted down. "Two- one- mark!"

Cole yanked at a red pull handle and heard a shearing sound as a sheet of titanium foil detached itself from the back of his pod and slowed his descent. Granted, he'd still be going fast- over one hundred kilometers an hour- but that was still preferable to hitting the ground at the speed of a sniper round.

But that apparently wasn't enough- the surface of New Constantinople still grew in detail, and the minuscule features on the surface were becoming larger and clearer with alarming speed- they were still going too fast. Cole bit his lip- he could engage the pod's retro-thrusters early, and be sure of a survivable landing- but what would it do to the mission if he jumped the gun? Initiation Night came back to him in full force- even when everyone else had pulled their chute; he'd kept his closed until the last moment- and knocked himself out doing it. Cole clenched his teeth- he was older now, and smarter than that. But was he any less brave? Exhaling explosively, he moved his hand away from the red button that would engage his thrusters.

Barely five seconds had passed, though, before Leon's voice came through the speakers yet again- "All right, teams, unless you wanna be pulped when you hit the dirt, engage thrusters! Repeat, engage thrusters NOW!" A hundred plumes of flame erupted beneath the pods as they continued to hurtle stubbornly towards the ground. In the next second, dozens more flames joined them, and more and more until all of Alpha Company had slowed themselves to a (hopefully) survivable impact speed. All but one.

Cole's pod raced past the others, groaning and creaking as bits of titanium from the pod's hull actually stripped themselves away and lagged behind in the air. For the fourth time, Leon yelled into his com unit.

"COLE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! ENGAGE YOUR THRUSTERS NOW, YOU CRAZY BASTARD!"

Rolling his eyes, Cole did exactly that, slamming his armored fist onto the large red button, and then jerking as his pod suddenly decelerated. Then after a few more seconds of slow fall, he felt another almighty lurch and heard a massive _CRASH_ as his SOEIV, battered and dented from its trip, slammed into the ground, its purpose served. Rapidly hitting the four buttons that would engage his pod's door ejection charges, Cole unstrapped himself and removed the straps fastening his MA5K to the interior of his pod. With a sharp _BAM_, his pod's door flew away and landed a dozen feet from the pod, having impacted a wall. Cole exited his pod, carbine trained in front of him. He called up TACMAP in the hopes of quickly finding the rest of Falcon, but that plan went to hell was soon as he heard another voice over TEAMCOM. This one, however, was not Leon's.

"Team leaders, this is Sierra Alpha-003, Michael. We've got Elites, and they're excited as hell. I think they've found something."

Before Cole could even digest the thought, Leon's voice sliced through the half-second silence. "All right, Spartans, you heard him. We need to recover whatever it is they've found and make sure they can't have it. All teams move to rendezvous ASAP."

Cole heard near-continuous beeping as two hundred ninety-nine green acknowledgement lights flashed.

Apparently satisfied, Leon continued. "All right, let's go. Alpha Company, move out!"

Cole was only too happy to oblige.


	11. Chapter 10: Cartography 101

**CHAPTER 10**

**1230 HOURS, 5 SEPTEMBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ONI AREA 52, NEW CONSTANTINOPLE, DELTA TAURI SYSTEM**

Cole saw a slight movement to his left, which his visor immediately highlighted and tagged with a sign- A127. It was Tyler. The ice-cool Spartan-III had his sidearm out. Approaching his teammate, Cole whispered into TEAMCOM, "What now? We have them in our sights." After a solid twenty seconds of silence, Leon's voice came back, a whispered hush as well. "We wait, Cole. Nobody jumps the gun on this one. We screw this up and we all get glassed, so hold it."

But Cole had heard nothing of Leon's last few words. His blood had heated to a boil as the image came back. These aliens, this Covenant, had been responsible for the deaths of billions. They had burned worlds. They had burned his world, and his entire family. Cole's face twisted into a snarl as his hands gripped the handle of his carbine so tightly his knuckles whitened beneath the SPI armor.

The world slid into incredible sharpness, as Cole's mind entered a crystalline state, unmarred by argument or reason. They had taken everything from him. And he would he would kill every one of them for it. They would pay. They would pay a thousand times over for every child that they'd orphaned- they would pay in mountains of corpses for their mistake.

Leon spoke to Alpha Company once again, his voice rock-steady.

"All right, all teams take up overlook position on the central excavation site- if the Covenant are there, then we have to be too."

Three hundred Spartan-IIIs, almost invisible in their camouflaged SPI armor, crept across the sprawling Forerunner complex, making slightly less sound than a careless whisper, which the ample noise created by the excited squeaks of the squat Grunt workers covered. In three minutes flat, every Spartan was on a balcony or natural overhang overlooking the massive sandy canyon that the Covenant had created in their hunt for the Forerunner relics.

There was no evidence of any drilling or digging equipment; by the looks of things, the Covenant had simply used the gravity beams on their transports to lift the intervening soil out of the ground- the result was a huge inverted-cone shaped depression in the ground, swarming with Elite overseers and Grunt workers. Three dozen Jackals stood watch while a pair of massive Hunters patrolled the immediate area. It was a formidable setup.

_Well, if it were easy, they wouldn't have sent us,_ Cole mused. He did a final spot check on his MA5K. It was in perfect working order.

"All right, Spartans get ready." came Leon's voice over the com, "Snipers, train your sights on Elites, two to a target. Teams Leopard, Jackal and Lynx, keep your eyes on those Hunters, and take them down on my mark. Osprey, are you in position?"

Five acknowledgement lights came up green as Team Osprey affirmed their position. A hint of satisfaction now crept into Leon's voice, and Cole couldn't keep a small sense of satisfaction from pooling in the back of his own mind.

A calm hush descended over the Spartans of Alpha Company, in stark contrast to the activity going on at the Covenant excavation site, which was growing more and more frenzied. Cole steadied himself and took a slow, deep breath. It was go time.

Leon spoke through TEAMCOM. "All right, Osprey, get their attention." After a full second of inactivity, two sharp _cracks_ resounded across the canyon, and the Elite leader, a Field Master in tarnished golden armor, collapsed to the ground, blue blood gushing from what appeared to be a leak in his skull. The scene down in the canyon immediately changed- it had gone from excited to fearful. The Grunts and Elites looked all around, trying to spot something, while the Jackal snipers raised their weapons and trained them on any potential hiding places for their commander's assassin. The two Hunters now stood back to back, their overlapping armor and shields making them almost completely invulnerable. Over seven hundred Covenant fighters peered frantically around for the source of the shot, but the Alpha Company Spartans, standing completely still, were completely undetectable in their SPI armor.

Cole's grin widened. Maybe the Covenant forces were better off not knowing what had hit them…

… but then again, maybe not. Team Osprey slid into view from what seemed like the thin air atop a balcony on a four-story Forerunner structure. They let loose another few sniper rounds and an SPNKr rocket, which did plenty to get the Covenant's attention. The Jackals let loose with their beam rifles and plasma pistols, sending a hail of plasma up towards Osprey, who promptly ducked behind cover. The Jackals edged warily towards the structure, while the Elites hastily tried to exit the canyon in order to arm themselves, barking orders to their Grunt subordinates to do the same. Cole's grin widened. Having Team Osprey taunt the Covenant hadn't been a part of the plan, since it would be easier to take down unsuspecting Covenant troops than to take down alert ones. But that wouldn't be any fun. The Covenant had made the Spartans what they were.

It would be just rude not to show them everything they'd brought down upon themselves.

A series of _booms_ and _cracks_ filled the air as lead bullets suddenly found themselves spat mercilessly from rifle barrels into Elite skulls. Fourteen of the hunchbacked warriors crumpled immediately, followed in the next few seconds by thirty more, then another twenty. After ten more seconds, only seven Elites were left standing.

But those few remaining Elite warriors wasted no time, barking their dismayed underlings into ranks and forcing them into a somewhat-orderly march out of the dig site. Leon's voice slid into two hundred ninety-nine com sets, making less noise than a slight puff of wind.

"Show yourselves."

Cole activated his suit commands panel and whispered softly, "Camo: off." He looked around as Alpha Company shifted into view.

Three hundred Spartans had occupied every rooftop and promontory around the dig site. The Covenant were completely surrounded. After several seconds of shocked silence, slight shifting sounds cut across the now deadly quiet as the Spartan-IIIs took aim.

Then one of the Elites bellowed an unintelligible word across the wide open space. Immediately, white letters flashed in a small corner of Cole's visor, translating the Elite's words. He'd only spoken one. The message read, "Demon."

Cole smiled. And then he fired.

The very air seemed to gleam white as tracer rounds darted across the open space, shining as their incendiary coats ignited. The Covenant troops, mostly Grunts at this point, tried to scatter and save themselves, but to no avail. The Grunts were mowed down by the dozen. And by the end of a minute, the Elites resembled nothing so much as bloody blue fountains, pouring blood from a dozen bullet wounds each. This wasn't like the sniper attack- a precise, almost automated surgical strike. This- this was slaughter. Despite the pitiful whines and groans of the wounded and dying Grunts, Cole felt no remorse or pity. These aliens had been responsible for nothing less than genocide. The blood of billions lay on their hands, and if there was one thing Cole knew, it was that they would never feel a shred of remorse if they burned billions more.

The Spartans were relentless, pouring hundreds more rounds into the scattered survivors until the ground was blue and slick with Grunt and Elite blood. The Jackals and Hunters turtled behind their shields, but there was simply too much fire from too many angles and even the tightest Jackal formations were shot to pieces. Meanwhile, fire teams Leopard, Lynx and Jackal were pounding away at the Hunters with M-19 missile launchers, stopping only when the ground where the two formidable warriors had once stood looked like a pile of orange gel. Then, just as suddenly as it had all began, the firing stopped.

It was over. They'd completely annihilated a Covenant ground force of over seven hundred in less than five minutes. To his surprise, Cole felt little satisfaction. He quickly brushed away the sensation as Leon's voice rang out again. "All right, Spartans, we got them, but there's more of 'em out there. Teams Falcon, Raven, Viper and Grizzly, get down there and recover whatever it was they were diggin' for. Everyone else- you're on patrol."

Once again, a near-continuous tone sounded as hundreds of signal lights winked green.

Cole clambered down from the rock he'd been perched on, and sprinted towards the barely-visible Forerunner structure, which only showed its roof beneath fifty feet of dirt. And the Covenant had known where to look for it while ONI had toiled away at a dozen other locations like suckers.

Cole joined the nineteen other Spartans from four fire teams at the site. Beneath their feet was a stone structure, with an aperture that would let them through, but only one at a time. Cole glanced at the others, wondering if they shared his thoughts.

Audrey from Team Raven broke the ice. "Permission to take point, sir!"

"Denied, Spartan. Falcon goes in first with me, and Viper, Raven and Grizzly will follow behind- get out and fall back to the perimeter if we're downed by anything down there. Understood?"

There was a split second's pause before Audrey replied, "Crystal clear."

Leon pulled out his MA5B and pulled the bolt back; releasing it as it made a satisfying _clack_- it was ready to go. Keeping its muzzle pointed down into the Forerunner-style trapdoor, he leapt down, landing a short distance- Cole couldn't tell exactly how far- with a soft _pat_. He made the universal _come on over_ gesture with one hand, and Eve and Naomi were down within seconds. Tyler was next, but the rocket launcher he carried wouldn't fit into the hole strapped to his back, so he emptied its chamber, dropped the now-useless weapon down below, then dropped himself down with the rockets belted to his pack. Cole had to admit- lack of elegance notwithstanding, Tyler's plans were ideal- simple and effective. Cole then went down after Tyler, keeping his carbine at eye level the entire time. This was neither the time nor the place to take chances.

By the time he hit the floor, the rest of the squad had finished securing the area. They now stood alert, weapons pointed down the corridors. Cole moved to join Leon, keeping his carbine pointed the same way as Leon's rifle, Turning and looking back only when fifteen more muffled _bumps_ heralded the arrival of the rest of the search team, he did a quick mental head count. Fifteen. All four teams were in. Clearing his throat, he voiced the single-word question.

"Orders?"

This seemed to snap Leon out of some kind of trance- the lead Spartan jerked and turned to the rest of the twenty-man team, taking a full five seconds to think out an answer, which was remarkable considering that they were in the middle of a two-way corridor. At last Leon spoke.

"All right. Falcon, Raven, you're with me- we take the eastern corridors. Grizzly, Viper, you take the west. Check in every 0015 hours and _fall back here_ if something goes whacked- capiche?"

A chorus of nods all around showed general understanding. Teams Grizzly and Viper set off, and Raven and Falcon formed up as they began to walk the other way.

It was almost like being in a ruin from some ancient human civilization- Egyptian or Sumerian, or one of those other ancient civilizations he'd learned about from Eternal Spring, but hardly alien. Cole would hardly have believed that the race that had built these had also been responsible for the technological superiority the Covenant enjoyed- it just didn't seem possible that the Forerunners would make anything worth copying, if their architecture was so… simplistic. And yet, these beings were indirectly responsible for ten kinds of hell on dozens of planets. _Always expect the unexpected_, that small voice in his head chimed.

Cole scowled silently and focused on the crosshairs of his carbine- at least _that_ wasn't some unfathomable mystery.

The team progressed silently in formation for roughly fifteen minutes, encountering absolutely nothing as they made their way through the structure's linear interior. Something about this didn't add up- if there wasn't anything in here, why did the Covenant dig it all up? As if in response, the wall composition changed as they rounded a stretch of corridor. Where before it seemed like the whole building had been carved out of sandstone, the corridor they had just entered was composed of a blue-gray metal of some kind, with small gaps in the walls, revealing black space interspersed with glimmering blue hieroglyphs. The small voice at the back of his mind whistled. _Now THIS is more like it…_

Suddenly, albeit not at all unexpectedly, a voice came out of their com headsets. "Team leader, this is Keith of Viper. We've found a control panel of some sort at our end. We don't know what it does. Orders?"

Leon didn't even hesitate. "Do not touch that panel. If you end up setting off some wierdass Forerunner bomb, you might as well tell the Covenant they're not needed anymore. Hold your position."

There was a slight, but tense, pause.

"Acknowledged."

A silent wave of relief coursed through Cole. At the very least, Viper and Grizzly weren't in trouble, and at the very least that meant backup if something was waiting at Falcon's end of the tunnel. At any rate, they'd soon find out.

It was another few minutes before they reached anything, and when they did, Cole was not surprised. A massive ten-meter tall door stood before the ten Spartans, and the lights, which Cole presumed to indicate the status of locks, were red. Leon opened a com channel.

"Okay, Grizzly, Viper, you officially have my permission to access that panel. If you get blown up, I'll give you all a real nice eulogy." There was a slightly stunned pause before Keith's voice came out in reply.

"Roger that, team leader. And all the same to you."

At that, Leon started, but a look from Naomi and Eve stopped him. Looking down the business end of three M7 submachine-guns could be unnerving, even for a Spartan. A slight hissing sound caused the ten of them to turn.

The doors slowly slid open, revealing a vaulted chamber on the inside. The sight of the huge room drew several _wows_ from the two teams, and they crossed its interior to a small panel at its center. The device stood around one meter tall, with a small pulsing blue light at its apex. Leon's voice, sounding as though it was at the end of a long tunnel, cut through the silence. "Grizzly, Viper, get down here now."

Cole approached the pedestal and reached out towards the panel-

-only to have a hand with an iron grip enclose his wrist. Cole jerked and looked around, only to see that Leon was standing behind him. He glanced at the person in front of him, who stood a full head shorter than him- no-one in Falcon was that short. Even Eve, the dwarf of the group, stood up to his eyes. Wordlessly, he pulled up his IFF tracker. The figure in front of him was marked A171. Cole inhaled sharply.

From behind him, Audrey- A250- spoke. "She's got a point. What if _this _one's the big bomb?"

Scowling, Cole turned on his heel and snapped, "Then back off and cover me." Audrey started to retort, but Leon cut her off.

"Let him do it. We'll cover him. All right, everyone, back off to ten meters and have all weapons trained on that panel. Let's do it, people!" At that, eight Spartan-IIIs formed a semi-circular perimeter around the pedestal. Pam, however, remained rooted to the spot.

"Go," Cole told her. Her only response was a shake of the head.

"Seriously," he said, more firmly this time, "if this thing blows, you really won't want to be standing here."

"No," she responded- and Cole was surprised to hear how soft her voice was- but then it struck him that he'd never actually heard her speak. "You go. I'll turn it on."

The two halves of Cole's mind instantly began screaming at each other. One half wanted him to join the perimeter, where he'd be safe from any immediate harm. The other half, the half that was inexplicably silent whenever Team Falcon even came near Team Raven, screamed out the exact opposite. This was his idea- if it would go FUBAR, then he should be the one in the way if something happened, not someone else. And especially not… Cole's thoughts paused. _Where did that one come from?_

Cole shook his head, both to disagree and to clear his thoughts. "No," he finally replied. "It was my plan- if it goes pear-shaped I'll deal with it."

"But-" she started, but then caught herself mid-sentence. After another second, she traipsed over to join the rest of Falcon and Raven. Cole sighed. He knew the first post-op question would be about what all that was about. As usual, Leon spoke.

"All right, Cole, go ahead. It was _your_ plan, after all."

Cole held his breath and reached out slowly. He set his fingers ever so gently on the pulsing light, squinting just in case…

White light enveloped his field of vision, replaced by a gentler blue glow. Cole fully opened his eyes and was instantly rendered breathless.

A huge three-dimensional map of the galaxy filled the entire room, illuminating every nook and cranny with a soft glow. Cole stood, slack-jawed, observing the whole spectacle. Millions upon millions of pinprick-sized lights were scattered across empty space, with several larger blue and red ones interspersed with the majority of the white ones. There was one green light- Cole wondered which star that was. When he finally recovered his senses, he glanced at the rest of the team. All nine of them had their weapons held loosely at their sides, looking back and forth at the myriad of stars. After several long minutes, Neil from Raven said in an almost trance-like voice, "What are those colored ones?"

"No idea…" Cole murmured, moving over to inspect. Now that he was closer, he could recognize some of the layouts from Eternal Spring's lessons. On one of the arms of the massive galactic structure, there was a very familiar arrangement of stars.

"The Colonies…" he whispered. By now, the others had joined him, and were examining the same cluster of stars he was. Eve pointed at a small star, slightly isolated from the familiar clusters that represented the UNSC colonies.

"Look," she said, "Onyx." No-one disagreed. The star Zeta Doradus sat in its established position, around ten light-years from the Outer Colonial boundary. But it was not coded like the other stars.

"Why's it colored blue?" Audrey wondered out loud.

"Search me," Leon replied, "but I'd rather it be blue than red."

There were seven red highlights orbiting seven different stars, all scattered distantly across the galaxy. Cole noticed that one of them looked close to-

"Why is Threshold red?" Reese asked. Cole got the feeling that the rest of Teams Falcon and Raven were both puzzling it out when a harsh voice cut through the com silence. It was Spartan A223, Ian.

"Leon! We got incoming Covenant! Teams Orca, Python, Hawk and Cheetah have engaged them; we'll keep them off your butts as long as we can! They're bee-lining towards your position, get out- repeat, get out NOW!"

Leon turned to the rest of them. "All right, sightseeing's over. Set the charges and we're out of here!" Activating his com, he practically roared into it. "Grizzly, Viper, get out and reinforce the perimeter! We'll be right behind you."

After half a second of static, Keith's voice chimed out in reply. "Roger that, Leon. See you on the other side."

As Falcon and Raven removed satchel charges from their packs, Cole wondered how much time the others could buy them.

A less pleasant thought flashed through him a second later. He gritted his teeth and set about arming his charge, but the thought remained cold and clear in his mind.

How many lives would that time cost?


	12. Chapter 11: Back Out of Hell

**CHAPTER 11**

**1304 HOURS, 05 SEPTEMBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ONI AREA 52, NEW CONSTANTINOPLE, DELTA TAURI SYSTEM**

Tyler strode back over to join the nine Spartans at the entrance of the Forerunner complex. Clicking a switch on his gauntlet, he nodded and gave the thumbs-up signal to Leon.

Leon made the traditional two-finger 'Spartan smile' and began ascending to the surface. Over the next minute, the Spartans of Raven and Falcon teams exited the complex, then moved due south up a mound of sand and dirt, to find the Covenant forces that Ian had alerted them to. They had to be bypassed if Alpha Company was to make it to the _Calypso_ sub-prowlers and escape the planet before the Covenant could start glassing it.

There had been no question of leaving that map behind for the Covenant to find it, and it would have taken too long to set detonators _and_ download the information. So Leon's snap-judgment had been the only real choice- blow that complex to Kingdom Come. Tyler's field kit had only sweetened the deal- Falcon's explosives expert had packed a disassembled _FENRIS_ nuclear warhead just in case there was something that needed to be incinerated. Essentially a very tiny sun, the _FENRIS_ would take the whole complex out, and then some.

The two teams halfway up the slope when-

"This is Spartan A111- we got Covenant heading in from the east, blocking our movement. Requesting backup now." As the ten of them turned instinctively towards the east, a massive blast struck the soil right at the crest of the ridge, sending a shower of earth easily fifteen meters into the air. Quite unnecessarily, a voice cut through the com units a split second later- "Holy shit! They've got Wraiths!"

Leon turned to Audrey and pointed south. Raven's team leader nodded and her four Spartans followed her lead the way they'd been going. Leon and Falcon sprinted off towards the east, with Tyler bringing up the rear- but this time, no-one berated him for it. Tyler was their explosives guru- if he went down, the Covenant Wraiths would deep-fry them on the spot.

Just as they came over the top, Cole, Leon, Eve and Naomi dove down towards the ground, firing quick suppressing bursts from their weapons as they did so. Only a few Grunts went down at that, but the rest of the troops, including Elites, ran for cover. Cole smiled to himself- the Covenant, however powerful, were always predictable. As Tyler sprinted past them, he let off a shot from his M-19, and then crouched to take aim again.

The rocket screamed along its flight path, leaving a voluminous white vapor trail as it flew. Impacting a Wraith dead center, it blossomed into a massive fireball which enveloped the entire tank. But Wraiths were tough- it would take more than just one rocket to destroy the mainstay of Covenant armored forces.

It would take two. And the momentary lack of vision from the flames was more than Tyler would ever ask for. A second rocket tore along the exact same path as its predecessor, striking the battered Wraith in the same spot. At this, the vehicle flashed blue, and a roiling column of over-pressurized air blasted out in all directions, sending a spray of sand and dirt over Team Falcon. Cole rose immediately and pumped his legs against the ground as he sprinted, gouging the earth with every impact. Behind him, he heard the _buzz_ing sound of M7 submachine guns, and he knew Even and Naomi were finishing off any live Grunts as they cowered on the ground. Cole ignored them as distractions- A111 and Team Fox were out there somewhere, fighting enemies who _weren't_ lying at their boots.

They then came upon the Covenant quite by accident. Two Hunters faced away from the approaching Team Falcon, firing volley after volley of fuel cannon blasts into the streets beyond. Half a dozen Grunts, accompanied by a Jackal and led by two Elites, stood behind them, a reasonable, albeit somewhat incompetent, rearguard.

Cole, Naomi, Even and Leon crouched, weapons raised. Tyler kept sprinting, letting off an SPNKr rocket into the ground right in the center of the oblivious Covenant troops. The effect was immediate- amid a shower of shattered rock and gravel, the Grunts were hurled like rag dolls into the walls on either side of the street, while the Jackal's shield absorbed the blast, draining completely in the process. The two Elites lay on the ground twitching, and the Hunters were in the same state, sans movement. Two sharp _pops_ from Eve and Naomi's M7s signaled the end for the Jackal, and it flopped to the ground, blood pooling under his chest and head. Cole and Leon then went over to the two prone Elites, one to each. Leon drew his short-bladed combat knife, and with practiced precision, slit the Elite's throat. As he stood, he attached its two plasma grenades to his belt. Glancing over at Leon, he saw Falcon's leader nod.

Falcon hurried on. In the absence of the deafening fuel rod gun blasts, Cole could make out in the distance the distinct _crack-cracks_ of UNSC assault rifles, as well as the _chirps_ of Covenant plasma weapons. Every now and then, arcing energy mortar blasts flashed across the sky and landed nearby, gutting the already-fragile city. Still Team Falcon ran on.

They could have been fighting in hell; massive blasts of wind kicked up clouds of sand in the semi-arid region, leaving the sun flickering in the sky like a failing streetlamp. Rubble filled every alley and street, and bodies littered every space, their blood rendered dark in the half-light. Cole noted one fact about the corpses- they were all Covenant. Alpha Company had killed thousands of Covenant troops without a single loss.

Yet.

They climbed a small ramp, arriving at a terrace where they saw five Spartans crouched up against the railing. IFF trackers confirmed their identities- it was A111 and the rest of Team Fox. As Eve and Naomi sent bursts of lead into the Covenant troops below, Leon fired off a question.

"Where are Tiger and Mako?"

A111- Pearce- shook his head. "No idea. Bunch of Elites riding Ghosts attacked us. We holed up here until we could shoot them down- haven't heard from Tiger or Mako since."

Cole's heart sank- the Covenant was dismantling their perimeter without even trying. But before he could do anything else, Leon barked out, "Okay, let's finish this! Heap it down on 'em!" At that, Tyler lobbed a large disc-shaped object onto the ground below. In the half-instant before it cleared the railing and dropped from sight, Cole recognized it as a LOTUS anti-tank mine- capable of taking out practically any armored vehicle, and any and all infantry, bar none. Eve and Naomi ducked behind the railing and covered their heads, confirming his hunch. A massive _BOOM_ and shudder coursed through the building they stood on as the mine's charges detonated, shattering any remaining thoughts that Tyler had tossed one of Chief Mendez's old disc records down instead.

Teams Falcon and Fox observed the carnage below. Tyler's mine had done it- mangled and flash-burned Covenant bodies littered practically every open space. But still, Cole thought- handling a primed anti-vehicle mind had been a damned stupid thing to do, even for Tyler. Fortunately, the coms buzzed to life at that moment, halting a train of thought that involved what might have happened if Tyler had been slightly _less_ careful.

"This is A039 of Team Cobra- _Calypso_ in sight. Should we exfil?"

Leon barked back into his com unit. "Get the hell out, NOW! We'll meet you in orbit!"

There was a moment of static. "Roger that, team leader, Brian- _GAGH!_" The com went dead.

Leon roared into his headset. "Brian, come in. Repeat, Brian, come in! Come in now, damn it!" He gave up after that, turning to the rest of the ten-man unit. A stone settled in Cole's stomach- Alpha Company had just sustained its first loss.

"Okay, we're exfilling now. Tyler- you got the remote detonator?"

Tyler nodded and gave him the thumbs-up.

"All right. The nearest _Calypso_ is a mile away- let's get moving. We'll pick up Tiger and Mako on the way, and then we're outta here."

At that, the Spartans set off, sprinting practically the whole way.

They found Tiger and Mako shortly thereafter, pinned down in the rubble of several Forerunner buildings, through which Covenant Jackals and Elites were hunting ruthlessly for them. From orbit, UNSC _Normandy, _UNSC_ Trial by Fire_, and UNSC _In Amber Clad_ had sent a hail of Archer missiles into the area around the ONI site to slow the Covenant down, causing some collateral damage to the Forerunner structures in the area, and since the Covenant troops couldn't fire on the human ships from the ground- although not for lack of trying- they'd simply vented their fury and outrage on the Alpha Company Spartans instead.

Teams Falcon and Fox entered the shattered remains. Bolstered by the arrival of reinforcements, Tiger and Mako led the charge against eh unsuspecting Covenant, who apparently had expected to play a game of hide-and-seek. The twenty Spartans tore into the Covenant with almost fiendish relish, battering skulls, snapping limbs, and firing their high-powered weapons at point-blank range into Grunt and Elite faces. After a scant two or three minutes, several dozen of the alien troops lay in heaps at the feet of the four teams.

Leon buzzed them all. "Everyone all right?"

"This is Mako, all sharks accounted for."

"Same with the kittens."

"This is Fox; we're a little banged up, but alive."

"All right, let's get to the _Calypsos_. And I mean now."

For the next hour, the twenty Spartan-IIIs sprinted through the ruins of Area 52, taking the occasional pot-shot at an unwary Covenant soldier, and picking up several more stranded fire teams along the way. By the time they'd reached the nearest _Calypso_ sub-prowler, the group consisted of eight Spartan teams- and the ship only held thirty-five. Leon shepherded all the other teams on board, despite vehement protests.

"Get in NOW! We'll find the next one and meet you in orbit." A286, however, felt the need to be particularly stubborn.

"But- Leon, you're the mission leader. You go down and-"

"MY team mate has the detonators that will keep Forerunner intel out of the Covenant's tentacles- and if ANY of my team stays on this rock, I do too. So shut up and get on board, or so help me we'll get the first ever case of Spartan-on-Spartan FF. You got that?"

Nolan did not reply, but instead climbed into the ship's passenger bay, rifle held loosely at his side. The sub-prowler's engines purred to life, and the exfiltration craft made its way higher and higher into the atmosphere, disappearing into the debris field in high orbit. Cole could only hope they'd made it safely.

Leon activated his com unit and broadcasted on an open channel. "Spartans, report in. Now."

Two hundred ninety-one acknowledgement lights blinked green, although Cole noted that A286 had only done so after a second's pause. But four lights remained dark. Alpha Company's casualty rate after one mission was a little over one percent- something any military leader would have been proud of. But Cole felt a hollow pit form in his stomach- these were not four nameless, faceless soldiers- he had trained and lived alongside his fellow Spartans for three years- the loss of any of them, no matter how few, would never be cleansed. The knot his insides had formed eased a little when A171's acknowledgement light, along with those of Team Raven, were shining bright green.

Satisfied, Leon spoke. "All right, all teams get back to the _Normandy. _Team Falcon and I will stay down here make sure that we'll only see that complex in hell. Then we'll join you. Leon out."

Clacking the bolt on his MA5B, he nodded to the rest of his team. "We'll make our way to the last _Calypso_ and set the charges off when we get there. You still got the trigger, Tyler?"

A127 twirled the detonator key for a two-megaton payload in his hands as if it were a keychain. Leon sighed. In his dehydrated state, the breath was haggard and drawn-out to Cole's ears.

"All right, let's go then."

And go they did- the five final Alpha Company Spartans on New Constantinople covered the three kilometers between them and the last _Calypso_ in the area at a full sprint. Five minutes later, they were looking down at it from a slight incline, but they didn't like what they saw. Tyler summed their thoughts up in two well-selected words.

"Aw hell…"

Almost a hundred Covenant troops were swarming in the area around the final _Calypso_. Straightforward the Covenant could be, but stupid they were not. They probably knew this was the Spartans' only way off- they had to, given that they'd likely seen all the other _Calypsos_ leaving.

Out of the blue, Tyler told them all, "Get ready…" then set about priming his remote trigger. Cole did a check on his MA5K. Sixty shredder rounds ready to go. All good, in other words. Beside him, Leon, Naomi and Eve were inspecting their weapons too. After two seconds, Team Falcon's acknowledgement lights shone green.

A dull _boom_ sounded in the distance, followed by a shudder that coursed through the ground. Cole looked over his shoulder towards the until-recently underground Forerunner site.

A column of smoke and dust roared as it shot straight up into the air, followed by a spray of sand and shattered rock as the pressure wave from Tyler's FENRIS warhead punched straight through the structure's walls and ceiling. The Covenant troops simply stood and stared, horrorstruck, at the desecration of a relic by the humans.

A hail of armor piercing-rounds ripped through a large number of the gawking Elites and Grunts, snapping the rest from their torpor. They immediately turned and charged the Spartans, only to have their ranks halved as fragmentation grenades sent white-hot metal shards into soft tissue. Still more flooded into the area, determined to prevent the last of the demons from escaping.

Falcon was methodical and steady. Minute by minute, they moved several meters closer to their _Calypso_ ship, all the while making sure no Covenant trooper got within spitting distance of them. And if the occasional foolhardy Grunt made it that far, a round from each of Eve's twin submachine-guns usually solved the problem he posed.

For a while, the situation appeared normal, until-

"Ultras!" Tyler roared.

Cole looked in the direction A127 pointed in. Tyler was right- five Elites in golden armor, each wielding a shimmering energy sword, were running full pelt at Team Falcon.

"One to each!" Leon screamed, as he wiped the butt of his MA5B clean of Grunt brain fluid.

Cole leveled his carbine and turned to face the Elites, noting as he did so that Tyler had holstered his M6 pistol and now carried a grenade. Cole charged his chosen Elite, firing all the while. Most of the rounds puckered off a shining energy shield, but after his round was almost spent, the shield vanished, utterly depleted. Adjusting his aim, Cole sent the last of his clip in a spray towards the Ultra's neck. A blue mist appeared around the Elite's throat as he dropped his sword and clutched at his punctured windpipe. Not wasting any time, Cole dropped his carbine and sprinted to his wounded foe, scooping up the sword and thumbing the activation switch.

The Elite managed to get one hand up fast enough to swat him in the face. Staggering back, Cole felt a hand close around his wrist, attempting to wrest the sword from his grasp.

"No- you- _don't-_" Cole grunted as he drew his M6 magnum and sent five rounds pinging off the Elite's headdress. His inner self gaped with disgust at the inaccuracy of the shots. _Shut up_, Cole told that other bit of him. It wouldn't harm his opponent, true, but it would work just fine. The Elite shook his head-

-and released his grip. Seizing his chance, Cole tightened his grip and sent the sword plunging into the Elite's skull. The alien twitched once- but that was all.

He turned around. Leon was dancing back and forth, teasing the Elite following him with the occasional burst of rifle fire, and the enraged warrior followed him every step of the way. Eve and Naomi were engaged in a weird sort of armed boxing match with their respective Ultras, and Cole gaped in horror as the remaining Elite bowled Tyler over.

Cole sprinted toward his downed team mate, knowing full well he'd never make it in time. The Elite picked Tyler up and pinned him against the hull of the _Calypso_, uttering a harsh, guttural laugh as he raised his sword to Tyler's chest level. Then Tyler murmured over TEAMCOM, "_Too slow…"_

Still running, Cole saw his friend stuff the fragmentation grenade between the Ultra's mandibles and into its throat, flicking the pin out as he did so. The effect was immediate. The retching, choking Elite dropped its sword and staggered back and forth, much as Cole's had done. A few second later, it was all over. An explosion sent blue flecks all over the battlefield as the headless Zealot collapsed into the sand. Eve and Naomi took advantage of the momentary distraction of the other two Elites to literally bash their skulls in with the butts of their weapons. Two more fell to the ground, lifeless.

Cole ground to a halt, sighing with relief as he did so. Tyler was now standing with an energy sword in his hand. Eve and Naomi were now checking their weapons. Cole was wondering where Leon was when-

"NOOOOO!"

A continuous _clack-clack-clack_ sounded as Leon emptied his clip into the back of his Ultra as it charged at the unwary Tyler from the rear. Its shields failed just as it began a stabbing motion towards the left half of Tyler's chest. Tyler spun on the spot, weapon raised-

-only to have the energy sword slide through his armor and into his right lung. Tyler gurgled and coughed, dropping his sword as his chest heaved, staining the chestplate of his SPI suit red with his blood, most of which dissipated into vapor as it made contact with the superheated beam of energized plasma which formed the sword.

All thought disappeared from Cole's mind. Shrieking like a banshee, he sprinted at the Elite, leaping the final meter to barrel into it, knocking his opponent over. He emptied the rest of his clip into its chest armor, denting and puncturing it in a dozen places, _clack_ing when its magazine was spent, but Cole wasn't done yet. Yanking his pistol out, he fired at the Zealot's face, not caring where the shots went. When the clip _clicked_ to denote its lack of content, Cole went manual, pounding the alien's face with armored fists, not even caring when the Elite's form went limp.

After what seemed like an interminable period of time, Cole felt three sets of arms seize him around the shoulders, hauling him away from the now-still form of the alien soldier.

"Let-me-_now!_"

"Get a grip, Cole!" Leon shouted. "It's dead now."

"I'm not letting- it- Tyler-"

"He's alive, and every minute we spend trying to hold you is a minute we could be getting help for him! Now _get a grip_, Spartan."

Cole did not hear him. He placed Tyler's still spasm-wracked form in the _Calypso_, strapped it in, and then did the same for himself as he felt the craft shudder. Barely noting that Eve and Naomi were securing themselves, Cole's only motion was a slight sigh as Leon engaged the engines.

The _Calypso_'s engines wailed as the small sub-prowler shot into the atmosphere, towards high orbit, leaving the ground of New Constantinople behind.

As if on cue, plasma fell from the sky like rain.


	13. Chapter 12: Spartans Never Die

Author's Note: Guys, I'm strapped for reviews right now, and they would really be appreciated- feedback, advice, constructive criticism- I could use some, because right now I'm flying blind.

Enjoy the chapter- and review.

**CHAPTER 12**

**1441 HOURS, 5 SEPTEMBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ON BOARD **_**CALYPSO**_**-CLASS EXFILTRATION CRAFT, OVER NEW CONSTANTINOPLE, DELTA TAURI SYSTEM**

Cole bit his lip, hoping that the Biofoam now encasing Tyler's chest could keep him going long enough for the Spartan to get to _Normandy_'s med bay. Tyler's chestpiece lay on the floor, and if it weren't for the grey sludge-like substance over his torso, or the fact that he kept coughing up blood, no-one would have known Tyler was dying.

"Approaching the _Normandy_, beginning docking sequence now," Leon called from the front. Cole removed the straps around Tyler- better to do it now than when they actually docked.

The minute exfiltration craft slid into the _Normandy_'s oversized hangar bay, and the landing gear made shrill _hissing _sounds as it kept the _Calypso_ from rolling over.

Cole wasted no time; he carried Tyler at a full sprint from the ship's exit ramp, with the rest of Falcon in tow. They sprinted from the hangar bay, where a full-blown shouting match between the Alpha Company Spartans and _Normandy_'s ODST complement was underway. Cole didn't care, though- Tyler needed help. That was all that mattered.

A few minutes later, Cole thundered into the med bay and slammed Tyler down onto a bed, screaming for an orderly. Pulling up TEAMBIO, he no longer saw Tyler on the roster- his disassembled armor accounted for that, though.

Half a dozen nurses and orderlies rushed to Tyler's side with medical supplies and equipment, while four more tried unsuccessfully to remove Cole from the room.

"I'm staying _here_! He's my squadmate- no way in HELL am I leaving him like THIS!" he said, gesticulating wildly towards Tyler's prone form.

"There's nothing you can do for him- in fact, you'd probably hamper our efforts, given that you wouldn't settle for sitting still while we revive your friend."

"I don't _care_. I'm-"

The four orderlies drew syringes. The lead one spoke. "Look, if you don't leave, we'll sedate you, and _then _remove you. So it's really just a question of whether you want to leave while conscious or while out cold."

Cole clenched his teeth and his fists, knowing full well that he could have the orderlies down on the floor before they could draw breath, and that their syringes wouldn't penetrate his SPI armor. All the same, he sighed and lowered his arms.

There was nothing _he'd_ be able to do for Tyler now. This wasn't his fight. Snarling behind his visor, he exhaled again and said, in a voice flooded with resignation, "Fine. I'll go." And with that he trudged out.

The rest of Team Falcon was waiting on the other side of the door, faceplates polarized. Cole spoke to them before Leon would be able to reprimand him.

"Look, guys, I'm-" Leon placed his hand on Cole's shoulder.

"It's okay, Cole. Any one of us might as well have done the same. Point is; you got him here quick. They might be able to save him after all."

Cole nodded, and with the rest of Team Falcon he traipsed back down to the hangar bay to remove the rest of their gear, only to find that the argument between the Spartans and the Helljumpers wasn't over yet.

"We don't take orders from swabbies- kid swabbies no less!" yelled one of the more bravado-filled ODSTs.

Nolan was yelling back. "WE were the ones sent on this op, and you'd never obstruct Marines if they were bringing in the injured or dead!"

"Different rules for _freaks-_ freak. Thought you were supposed to be immortal anyway."

Nolan snapped. As Cole and the rest of Alpha Company looked on along with ODST Victor Company, Nolan drew his M6 and pointed it right between the Marine's eyes, a fact the older and much larger soldier seemed to find funny.

"What- you gonna shoot me, kid?"

"I'm considering it."

"Huh- bet you don't even got the guts-" how that sentence would have ended Cole wasn't sure- all he was sure of was the fact that he'd taken seven strides towards the ODST and slugged the trooper right in the nose with his armored fist. The man staggered back, clutching at his now-crimson face. Cole's voice could have frozen hydrogen.

"How's that for guts?" he spat. The ODST hurried out of the hangar bay, staining the floor behind him with blood. His squadmates parted like a cresting wave before him as he sped out. When the doors to the rest of the ship were closed, Victor Company faced Alpha Company, and glares were painted on each and every face on both sides. Cole heard distinct _cracks_ as some of the ODSTs cracked their knuckles.

"What's going on here?" A man in a gray Navy uniform with the bars of a Lieutenant stepped into the room. Seeing Nolan's raised pistol and Cole's bloodied gauntlet, the man didn't guess twice.

"I want you ALL out of here- NOW!" Even Leon didn't disobey that order, and the two companies, Orbital Drop Shock Trooper and Spartan, filed out quietly. Cole was amazed that he hadn't been held back for a reprimand.

From the Lieutenant, anyway. As soon as they'd exited the hangar, Leon rounded on him.

"What the HELL was that for?"

"We WENT through hell down there- we took down a Covenant ARMY and blew up intel that could have WON this war for us! WE were the ones who had to fly away while the rest of the WHOLE GODDAMNED PLANET got glassed! WE lost our team mates down there, and unlike the _HELLJUMPERS_, WE'RE not a credit a dozen! NO-ONE has the right to call us gutless! NO-ONE!"

"And you don't think the ODSTs have been through this sort of shit before? We're an insult to them, Cole! THINK, for once in your life!"

Cole clenched his bloodied right fist, wanting for just an instant nothing more than to crack right through Leon's faceplate. But the instant passed, and he relaxed. Taking his helmet off and setting it down on a rack, he said, to no-one in particular, "I need some air."

If Leon commented on this, Cole did not hear it. He simply walked away from the squad and down a corridor that would take him to the observation deck- or so he hoped.

For almost half an hour, all he heard besides the background noise of the crew running UNSC _Normandy_ was _clink-clink-clink_ as his boots hit the metal floor. Cole walked down empty stretches of corridor, taking turns that seemed random every so often. He had to get to the observation deck sooner or later- and given that he ascended various elevators on his journey, the small part of his mind not numb with shock expected it to be sooner.

He arrived at a closed door. Black stencil-painted letters across the door read 'CREW OBSERVATION DECK'. Good enough, he thought. He flipped the button that would open the door, and it slid out of his way with a _hiss._

The room was somewhat bare, with several rows of seating benches along the floor, and a viewscreen displaying the heavens above which formed the roof. The crew observation deck was rarely, if ever, used on board a warship, given that in between engagements most of the crew snoozed away in cryonics pods.

Right now, the stars above the _Normandy _shifted slowly, and were obscured every now and then as the surviving ships of Vice Admiral Whitcomb's fleet tried to escape New Constantinople's gravity well. Out of a fleet that had originally numbered around eighty vessels, Whitcomb, by some miracle, still had twenty-five after a week of ship-to-ship combat. But they'd still lost New Constantinople. Millions more had died. And Tyler- there was a good chance he'd join the ranks of the casualties this war had taken.

Cole looked up at the stars, shining intermittently as UNSC warships obscured his view of them. He didn't care; he couldn't even really see the stars as far as sight was concerned. He simply stared past them, at a point infinitely small an infinite distance away.

The door behind him hissed open. Cole sighed. If Leon was going to lecture him, why couldn't he have done it in the pod room, where Cole would have more time to think it over? There was simply too much in his head right now.

He turned towards the door. "Look, I really don't need anyo-" he stopped dead mid-turn. It wasn't Leon.

It was Pam. After a second of dead silence, she gave a small nod of understanding; she turned and reached out to the door switch.

"No, wait-" Cole half-said, half-called out to her.

She shook her head. "It's all right, I understand. You need a little time alone. I get it."

"But wait-" Cole began, but the door had hissed shut. He cleared the distance between himself and the door inside of four seconds and thumbed the switch that would open it. He found himself face to face with a Navy Petty Officer, who seemed alarmed by his appearance. The Petty Officer recovered and asked, "Are- are you Spartan A299?"

Cole cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah I am."

"Oh, all right- so you _were_ here."

"How'd you know I was up here?"

"Ran into another Spartan- she told me you were up here. A171, or some other number like that."

Cole nodded curtly. "So, now you've found me."

"Well, I'm supposed to deliver a message."

Cole's heart plummeted. "About what? Our destination?" He knew, however, that that wasn't the reason this Petty Officer had combed through half the ship looking for him.

"No- Vice Admiral Whitcomb already issued orders on that- we're to engage the Cole Protocol- we should emerge somewhere between Biko and Madrigal, and then we're jumping straight to Sigma Octanus IV."

Cole nodded again. "So what _was_ the message?"

"Your squad mate, Tyler- he died of his injuries. They tried everything. There was simply too much damage."

Even though he'd been expecting the worst, Cole's eyes widened in shock. No, Tyler couldn't be dead. It simply wasn't possible. His breathing quickened and he looked back and forth frantically, as if expecting to see Tyler stroll down the corridors. The Petty Officer cut him off.

"I'm truly sorry for your loss," he said with what sounded like genuine sympathy, "but Tyler A127 had a message for each of his squadmates before he died." As he said this, Cole noticed a datapad attached to the Petty Officer's belt.

"All right," he replied, holding his hand out, "can I read it?"

"That won't be necessary- his message to you was, 'Go for it'."

Cole stared blankly at the Petty Officer. In another time and place, he might have made sense of that, but now… The Petty Officer interpreted his blank look and continued.

"His messages to the others required reading from the pad. His message to you was short enough- and weird enough- for me to remember."

"So that's all he said? 'Go for it?' Are you _sure_?"

The Petty Officer nodded. "Yes. Now- I've got to go. I truly am sorry about what happened."

And with that he walked off, leaving Cole standing in the hallway, his thoughts elsewhere.


	14. Chapter 13: Mamore

Author's Note: Christmas release! Hope you guys like this one, because this is my last 2009 chapter- the next update will be after the New Year. Anyway, consider this a gift, and as ever, read and review, please! Happy holidays!

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

**DATE AND TIME UNKNOWN, APPROXIMATE DATE 12 OCTOBER 2536**

**ON BOARD UNSC **_**SAHARA**_**, EN ROUTE TO MAMORE COLONY, IOTA URSAE SYSTEM**

Cole filed into the briefing room with the rest of Alpha Company. The two hundred ninety-five Spartan-IIIs had been riding shotgun on board the _Sahara_ ever since _Normandy_ had been gutted, courtesy of a Covenant battle group in orbit over Delve Colony. Battle Group 117 had gone into the system with thirteen ships, and came back with only her flagship, the _Sahara_. Meanwhile, the Spartans had distinguished themselves on the ground by holding off a Covenant battalion outside the city of Varburg long enough for ONI to evacuate key personnel and equipment for Project GUNGNIR, whatever that was.

Unlike New Constantinople, however, the Covenant did not glass the planet. Delve had been named for its unusually abundant mineral deposits- and the Covenant had started work on five refineries within a week of taking the planet's surface. Alpha Company had sent those to hell too, and then spirited themselves into orbit.

And unlike New Constantinople, Alpha Company had not lost a single member in the Delve ops.

Cole pushed the memory of Delve from his mind- for all the fighting they'd done, Alpha Company still hadn't waited for the civilian evacuation to be complete- they'd left almost a million people to die.

Dimly aware that someone had begun to talk, he shook his head, reorienting his focus to a Petty Officer with a voice possessed of the approximate texture of a buzz-saw.

"Now, we've received intelligence that Insurrectionists have infiltrated Mamoran society and are spreading disloyalty to the UNSC- as if the Covenant weren't enough of a problem…"

Cole actually began to find it hard to keep his eyes open- boredom had never been a problem before- why now, all of a sudden?

"…Now some of the teams will be engaging secessionist forces that we've already identified. The other teams will be assigned to the protection of valuable individuals and installations…"

As the man droned on and on, Cole heard a telltale _hiss_ behind him as the briefing room's airlock opened, and then slid shut. He looked back; seeing no new entries, he looked around to see who might have exited. After a quick two-second check, his heart sank. Team Raven was short one member.

Being careful to make as little noise as possible, he slipped out the door, making less noise than the door as it shut.

He turned down the corridor just in time to see a lock of dark hair whip out of sight. Cole set off, quickening his pace and hoping all the while that he'd be able to keep up.

As the low-speed chase wore on, Cole became more and more aware of the fact that the series of hallways and passages he was traversing were familiar- they were ascending through the ship. _Normandy_ and _Sahara_ weren't even the same class of ship- but Cole had discovered the observation deck around a week into Alpha Company's sojourn on board the supercarrier. It had helped him cope with Tyler's death- it had provided him with a quiet place to clear his thoughts if the need arose.

Abandoning the chase for the moment, he took an elevator that would take him to the observation deck faster.

Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the door marked 'CREW OBSERVATION DECK'. When he'd first found it, Cole had discovered a thick layer of dust on the door. But now, with semi-regular use, the metal was not dull, although it certainly didn't gleam. He gently pushed the door control, and the portal slid open.

Standing in the middle of the room, staring silently up at the empty blackness of Slipspace, was Pam. Cole suddenly began finding it very hard to breath- a lump had formed in his throat, and for some reason it seemed to be growing.

He took a few steps into the room, cleared his throat, and, with the last of his ebbing courage, asked, "Hey- are you okay?" As soon as he'd said it, his brain immediately began screaming at him, berating the idiocy of the comment.

She didn't reply. Cole didn't blame her, but the silence was really beginning to worry him. He walked towards her slowly, trying not to hyperventilate as he did so.

When he was just a foot from her, he heard her say, very softly, "Why did you do it, Cole?"

Cole's brain froze just as his heart shot down into the region of his left kneecap. Images, words and sensations flew from memory as he speed-wracked his brain for anything he'd done that might have upset her. Slowly but surely, an image came into focus in his mind's eye.

Trying to console a distraught Eve, he'd given her a very strange one-armed hug after the news of Tyler's death was broken to her. Amazingly, though, she might have needed comforting the least- she and Naomi seemed to be coping best out of the four of them. Cole pushed the musings aside. Now wasn't the time for them. Cole opened his mouth again, but his brain seemed to have been put on pause too- all that came out was, "Aah…"

She turned to face him, and repeated her question. "Why did you do it?" Cole's insides were hastily rearranging themselves, and would have done a much better job of it had Pam not followed up with another question a split second later.

"Why'd you join the program?"

Cole blinked, and his brain went into overdrive, churning out a hundred reasons a second why he'd done so, but for some reason every time he tried to voice one of them, they stuck in his throat. With a slight grunt, he made his choice.

"The Covenant- they burned my home. They-" he would have continued, but saw that her face had begun to fall, and changed tack at top speed. "What else was left for me?" Not a lie, but Cole's insides squirmed all the same.

Pam turned to face the viewport again. Cole's heart, now back in its proper place, hammered out a symphony of beats as his brain went to work, its activity almost audible to him.

When nothing happened for another minute, Cole walked forward again, stopping when he was level with her, but standing at her side.

Without a cue, she spoke again. "I didn't join because I hated the Covenant…" At this, Cole's insides immediately began to sink- was he hiding a swamp in his lower body? - But Pam continued, her voice barely a whisper now.

"I joined so we could save people." Cole's eyebrows slowly rose. She smiled ruefully at this, but Cole still felt a whooping sensation in his gut, and the room seemed to be temporarily airless.

"But now…" she continued, looking down now. Cole could recognize from the shortness and tone of the comment that she was trying not to let her voice break.

"We didn't save them… we left them there to die, Cole… Delve _and_ New Constantinople…" Her voice finally broke, but she fell silent before saying any more. Cole saw a single teardrop impact the metal floor, and his brain seemed to overheat, whirring as it cranked out thought after thought after thought in a never-ending stream, most of which were idiotic in the extreme.

He finally spoke despite the maelstrom raging in his head. As he did so, he noticed that his question seemed more like a croak than coherent speech. "We'll save others- that's our purpose…" he then stopped. Even he wasn't sure he could believe that. As if to vindicate his suspicion, Pam shook her head.

"We _won't_… and now-" her voice steadied somewhat, and she plowed on. "- now they're telling us to kill _people_- humans, Cole. Like _us_."

Cole's mind drew blanks. "What?" he asked; his tone half incredulous, half genuinely puzzled.

"Rebels, Cole. Insurrectionists… we're killing them because they don't agree with us."

"We're killing them," he said, much more firmly than she did, "because they're undermining humanity's chance at survival. If they left the UNSC well enough alone, we wouldn't bother. But they had to attack us, and they didn't stop when the Covenant started fighting us. If the UNSC can't defeat the Covenant, it's the end, Pam. For all humans- everywhere. The rebels can't hide forever, and they sure as hell can't fight the Covenant. The UNSC is humanity's _only_ chance- they're too blind to see it."

"And we're punishing them for ignorance? What good government _does_ that?"

Cole bit his lip, momentarily defeated. It was just as well- a lump had formed in his throat, and a thought was pervading every stream of conscious thought.

He'd argued correctly of course. If a weakened UNSC took on the Covenant, chances were that humanity would be nothing but a memory. But at the same time- how could he ever justify killing a fellow human?

He was spared the trouble of thought by a booming announcement that coursed through the ship.

"All Naval Special Warfare combat personnel please report to tactical briefing rooms immediately- ETA to Mamore five hours."

Cole sighed. The only NSW combat teams on board _Sahara_ were part of Alpha Company.

Despite the instruction, he did not leave the observation deck, and neither did Pam. He hung his head and waited for something- anything- to happen.

And then it did. Actually, two things happened at once. Firstly, a slight shift occurred at the edges of his peripheral vision, indicating, along with the _hiss_ of the room's door, that he was the only person standing there. Secondly, his handheld com set started beeping. Holding it to his mouth, he breathed a deep sigh and keyed an open channel.

"Cole, where are you? Get to Tactical Salon Seven now- we're all waiting."

"On my way, Leon. Don't exterminate the Covenant without me."

"Not making promises, buddy. Now get your ass down here."

Cole's sigh sounded like nothing so much as a sudden breath of wind on a calm day. He'd forgotten what that was like.

The next few minutes were a blur to him, but he distinctly remembered tumbling into Tactical Briefing Salon Four and almost instantly regretting that he'd entered in the manner he did.

The rest of Team Falcon stood there, sure enough, but they weren't the recipients of Cole's attention. A man with an exceedingly straight face and brown hair mixed with several grey streaks stood in the room, wearing a grey officer's uniform. On his lapel was the insignia of a UNSC Marine Corps Colonel- the groundside equivalent of the Navy Captain. Technically, Cole and the other Spartans were under the jurisdiction of Navy officers, but any commissioned officer had the authority to order them wherever they liked.

But that wasn't what troubled him. What troubled him was the aura this man exuded. It was one of danger.

Cole had no doubts that if he and the other Spartans ever got in this man's way, he would not hesitate to shoot them where they stood. He wasn't sure how he could harbor such reservations, but that didn't matter. All that did was that Cole had to fight every temptation to quickly punch the Colonel in the eye and run as quickly as possible in the opposite direction. However, he found himself able to snap off a quick salute along with the rest of Falcon.

"Cole-A299 reporting for duty, sir!"

"At ease, Spartan." Upon seeing Cole tense, he added, "I know who you all are, and if you're standard NSW then I'll eat my boots. Colonel James Ackerson."

Cole attempted to remain impassive by standing stock-still and not speaking, which seemed to work. Ackerson then spoke again.

"I reviewed your leadership of the operations on Delve and New Constantinople- very impressive, A176."

Cole could practically feel Leon tensing up- it was never good if they were referred to by their number designations. Never.

"Now, however, you'll be relinquishing command of the whole op- you and the rest of the company will be deployed on various missions across the planet, so you'll be leading one of six groups instead."

"Sir?"

"Observe, Spartan."

It was never good when someone called them that, either.

A large display popped into view over the hologram projector. It showed the planet Mamore, with a large flashing red dot in the planet's southern hemisphere.

"New Rydell," Ackerson stated, "will be your destination. Fighting is somewhat minimal right now, but we're pretty sure that's going to change soon. It will be your job to cut our losses when the fight finally arrives."

"I don't understand, sir."

"You will. Now what people don't know is that there's actually a nice little project set up in New Rydell…"

Cole fought the urge to roll his eyes. This was going to be just like Delve again, he just knew it.

"A sub-contractor of the Martin-Kessler Engineering Company is based on Mamore- specifically, in New Rydell. Ilius Shepherd-" at this, the display vanished, to be replaced by a three-dimensional image of a somewhat stocky man with a medium-length mustache- "is designing a new piece of equipment for the Navy, and they want him to stay alive until work is finished. Your mission will be to get him from his fortified compound in the city center to the municipal spaceport, where he will be extracted into orbit. Now, you won't be alone. Major Alexei Turayev-" the image of Shepherd's face dissolved, to be replaced by a picture of a somewhat younger man with a heavy-set chin and full black close-cropped beard- "has been stationed in the city to keep what fighting there is to a minimum. He knows about Shepherd, and men from his unit will rendezvous with you and assist your mission- provided they can be spared."

Cole made the mistake of frowning- but he couldn't help it. Escort duty was not what Spartans did- they were elite soldiers, not an honor guard. However, this did not seem to trouble Ackerson, who looked straight at Cole and asked, "Is something wrong, Spartan?"

A knot formed in Cole's throat, and his breathing quickened, but he stayed silent- momentarily.

"No, sir. No problems, sir."

"Good. STARS will beam you tactical intel on the ground. A176, you will be leading Tower Group: Falcon-" he nodded towards the rest of the group- "Raven, Mongoose, Heron and Piranha." Cole tensed, and he could see the minute cues that showed him that the rest of Falcon was on edge as well. Team Piranha was as vicious as they came, and just as ill-suited to escorting a high-priority mark. Did Ackerson _know_ they were going to be attacked?

Ackerson continued. "Well, that's all you'll need to know. Godspeed, Spartans." Almost as an afterthought, he said, "Good luck." And with that, he left.

Naomi shivered visibly- and audibly. "Jeez," she said, "did anyone else get the creeps from that guy?"

Leon's face remained completely still. "It doesn't matter. We've got our orders, and a few hours to prepare for combat." He turned to Cole, who had remained almost completely unmoving. "You all right, Cole?"

Cole honestly wasn't sure whether he _was_ fine or not, and didn't reply. He just shook his head to clear it, and shrugged noncommittally. This did not seem to satisfy Leon, who promptly asked, "What's going on?"

Cole's head cranked out an answer on the spot. "I don't know- just wondering about the rebs."

"What about 'em?"

"Could you honestly, you know- kill them?"

"They would do no different to us, Cole."

"So we're just sinking to their level now?"

"And _you_ would just let them take pot shots at you? And I thought you were dumb before…"

"But they're _humans_, Leon. HUMANS. Why let the Covies kill us all off when we can do the job ourselves?"

"Where's this coming from, Cole?" His eyes narrowed- dangerously. "Is it 171? Did she put all this shit in your head?"

"She has a name, _Leonidas_."

The rebuke did not seem to faze Leon. "We've got an op to go on, and we _will_ see it through, and no half-augmented washout is going to keep _my_ team from working at peak efficiency!"

"Yeah? Well tell that to the _genius_ who couldn't finish off an Elite and let him KILL one of MY TEAM-MATES by stabbing him through the fucking chest!"

"You will _remember _who's in charge of this squad, Cole, or so help me-"

"You'll do what? Threaten me? Hit me? Wipe the floor with me? Well here's food for thought, One-Seven-Six: Do it. I dare you. Do you have the _stomach_ for it? Well?"

A vein pulsed in Leon's temple, and his jaw leapt like a faulty suspension spring. After a second, he relaxed, took a breath that seemed to suck all the air out of the room, and said slowly, "Team, arm up and head to the drop bays. We've got a mission to carry out. Dismissed." When they all hesitated, he added, slightly more quickly, "Now, Falcon."

As he left the room, Cole bit his lip and paused. Before he could turn and reenter the room, the door swished shut, leaving him to stare at the blank metal surface. Swearing mentally to himself, he strode off towards the armories- better to be too ready than not ready enough.

Ten short minutes later, Cole arrived in the Spartan-III armory and donned his SPI armor in short order. He'd even had half a mind to pick his assault rifle, but then reminded himself that they weren't supposed to go into combat just yet- there were still several more hours to go until they arrived at Mamore. He cursed the lack of activity- surely there would be _something_ to do… But as hard as he thought, nothing came to mind. For five minutes, the Spartan paced up and down the armory, at a complete loss for what to do. The freezer was out of the question- he'd put his armor on, and he was not taking it off. The observation deck appealed to him, but his thoughts were too jumbled as they were- he couldn't run the risk of getting them mixed up further. Fortunately, alarm klaxons chose that moment to start blaring.

A female voice boomed across the PA system. "Attention all crew members- for unknown reasons, we have accelerated through the Slipstream and are approaching Mamore colony approximately four hours ahead of schedule. All crews are to report to their battle stations immediately; all ground teams are to prepare for insertion."

Cole sighed, his dilemma solved. He walked over to the weapon racks and picked up his MA5K, along with eight clips, one of which he slapped into his rifle. He also took an M6 pistol and several magazines, which he attached to the magnetic clamps on his armor's leg sections- one of the few features the SPI system and the MJOLNIR armor shared. As he ran a check on his armor's systems, the armory doors rushed open, and Cole was greeted by the sight of the rest of Alpha Company sprinting into the room and putting on their own SPI suits. Cole was greeted by many muted gestures and curt nods, which he returned in kind while clipping three fragmentation grenades to his suit's belt.

Geared up, he pulled up a readout of _Sahara's_ interior, and located the hangar bays- for this operation, the five teams that would be assigned to New Rydell would be inserted with Pelicans as opposed to SOIEVs- since New Rydell was not the site of any heavy fighting, there was no need to send Tower Group- the twenty-odd Spartans assigned to the area- in so quickly, especially if it meant they would be separated. Cole found the information he was looking for, the started off down a nearby corridor. After a short while, he entered a nearby transport elevator. Clearing his throat, he spoke slowly and clearly into the receiver unit, "Hangar bay B-5."

The elevator purred to a stop in the hangar bay a few moments later, and Cole got out, making his way towards the Pelican dropships that would be taking him and his comrades down towards the surface. If he'd expected a long wait, he didn't get it. Within several minutes, more of Alpha Company had entered the hangar bay and made their way towards their respective modes of transport. On the way down in the elevator, Cole had heard over the Spartans' private COM channels that Hunter Group- Teams Leopard, Puma, Coyote, Gharial and Orca- were being sent straight into heavy combat at Mamore's north pole, where rebels had captured a Slipspace monitoring and communications station and were in a very real position to isolate any UNSC forces on the ground from _Sahara_ and the USNC ships in orbit doing battle with the rebel fleet. Cole shifted uncomfortably- far from being sent into combat, Tower Group would be babysitting, and even if Ackerson had been right- even if fighting did flare up, the mark would be safe by then, and their part in the battle for Mamore over. This would be easy compared to the missions for four of the five other groups. Cole imagined that Sentinel Group- the other group not being sent headlong into combat- felt the same way he did, and he felt guilty.

He felt guilty at being given the easy assignment, at not having the chance to aid his fellow Spartans against their enemies, at not getting the chance to help them accomplish their mission sooner- and without loss of life.

Cole shook his head- orders were orders, and you followed them, like it or not. But he did _not_ like them. On the other hand, though, he would not have to kill any members of his own species- but it seemed poor consolation when he considered that Alpha's ranks might be further thinned.

The same female voice from before boomed through the PA system again: "Exiting Slipstream space now." _Sahara_ shuddered as she exited the Slipstream into normal space, and as if in answer, the hangar elevator doors screamed open, admitting dozens of UNSC ground troops, Spartan and Marine alike.

Cole spotted the rest of Falcon sprinting towards him, with the rest of Tower group in tow. Nodding, he sat himself down in the nearest Pelican's passenger bay, waiting patiently for Teams Falcon, Raven and Piranha to file in, while Teams Heron and Mongoose occupied an adjacent Pelican.

Cole observed the members of Piranha- they hadn't shown any overt signs of their famed aggression yet, but he was still wary. They looked identical to his own teammates in their SPI armor- one would hardly think that they were different. All the same, Cole turned away before one of them could notice that he was staring. Just in case.

The voice of Warrant Officer James Munter filtered through to them from the cockpit up front. "You guys all right back there?"

As usual, Leon spoke for the group. "Buckled in tight!"

"Good to know! This is gonna be a bumpy ride, just so you know! Sealing rear door now!"

The rear hatch closed, plunging the inside of the Pelican into momentary darkness before a small fluorescent light cut on, casting a dim radiance on the Pelican's interior. As the Pelican began to move, Munter yelled back towards them again. "All right, now let's go kick some rebel ass!"

Cole joined the rest of the passengers in yelling, "Oo-rah!" ignoring the fact that it was a Marine custom. What he did not ignore, though, was the nagging feeling that one of them had not joined in.


	15. Chapter 14: Shepherd and Flock

**CHAPTER 14**

**1852 HOURS, 13 OCTOBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**MAMORE COLONY, IOTA URSAE SYSTEM**

**ON BOARD PELICAN NOVEMBER-151, CALLSIGN RAFTER**

Warrant Officer Munter's voice broke through the monotonous drone of the two Pelicans and one Longsword headed to New Rydell. Or rather, the two Pelicans and one Longsword that had just arrived in New Rydell.

"Seems real quiet! You sure brass wants you guys _here_?" he called from the cockpit.

"Some jarhead, Ackerson or something, gave us orders! Ring him up and ask if you want!" Leon yelled over the droning sound.

At that, Munter clammed up, changing tack after several moments' silence. "So, what branch you in? I tell ya, I've seen some weird shit, but no-one dresses like you guys!"

"November Sierra Whiskey! But brass from all over likes tellin' us what to do!" Leon replied.

"Cool! That completes the collection! I've moved Marines, Helljumpers, even had a Spartan on here once! You guys round out the set! All that's left is ONI, but those guys fuckin' creep me out, so who cares."

Cole didn't feel like correcting the Warrant Officer- at least one of them should feel good before all hell broke loose. While the mission looked like a cakewalk on paper, Cole couldn't quite quash the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

Munter yelled into the passenger bay again. "Okay, we're approaching the LZ, ETA is three minutes! Might wanna check your settings before we get there!"

The fourteen Spartans all nodded and set about checking their equipment. Cole's MA5K worked fine and the safety was off- he was good to go. He then pulled up two readouts- a schematic of the route they were to escort Shepherd through, and a two-line contingency readout. If Insurrectionists revealed themselves, all UNSC ground personnel would have to challenge unknown contacts with 'Fire', and hope to goodness that said contact replied with 'Whites'. Cole closed the displays, hoping he wouldn't have to remember the latter.

Cole opened an uplink on his heads-up display, and for a few moments, he saw things through a camera on the Pelican's underside. The UNSC had prepared well for something that might never come; through the cameras, he spotted a dozen missile sites, machine-gun emplacements and various other emplacements, including a two-gun artillery battery (although Cole wondered whether two field guns could rightfully be called a battery). After thirty seconds, he shut the display in favor of a new view; the rear hatch's pistons screamed as the rear portal cracked open. Cole saw the same things he'd seen on the cameras a second ago for real now. Only now they were much smaller and shrinking all the time as November-151 moved further and further away from them. He heard Munter yell back to them again.

"I can see the LZ now! Get set to-" At that moment, though, a massive explosion engulfed a skyscraper in Cole's field of view. A titanic amount of noise flooded through the open com channels, which Cole promptly closed in favor of the mission channel frequency. The first voice he heard was Munter's.

"Tower Group! Hold on tight! Taking evasive action now!"

As the Pelican banked hard to the left, more voices began to flood through the single-frequency channel.

"Rafter, Shoelace, this is Lancer Five-Two, you have incoming missiles! Take evasive action now, repeat- take evasive action! I can't guarantee a hit on those missiles! For God's sake, get the hell out of there!"

"Lancer Five-Two, this is Shoelace, we've-" static flashed across the channel for several seconds, and then- "We've been hit! Starboard thruster's blown to hell, trying to-"

"Holy shit! Incoming!"

Through the back hatch, Cole saw it. A lone missile was tracking November-151, and closing more quickly every second.

"Rafter, this is Lancer Five-Two, moving to take out Insurrectionist ground units; drop your package now! Do it NOW, damn it!"

The Longsword escorting the two Pelicans peeled out of formation and flew into downtown New Rydell, firing its repeating cannons in seemingly random directions- they, like Cole and probably every other UNSC soldier in the city, had no idea where the rebels were. But Cole didn't have time to think, Leon had started to bark orders.

"Disengage straps and get ready to jump! Rafter, get us as low as you can! MOVE IT, people!" The Pelican moved in response, losing altitude quickly and leveling out barely five meters above ground level. But Munter wasn't through yet. The Pelican banked hard to the left and rounded a corner, following the street layouts.

Cole fumbled with his straps when the Pelican turned; along with everyone else seated along the ship's right-hand wall, he stumbled and fell across the Pelican's passenger bay unimpeded by the now-disengaged restraining belts. Cole bumped into someone, noticing after a moment that his HUD readout identified the contact as A171. Cole clenched his teeth, focusing on keeping himself in there here and now.

Unfortunately, a missile did that for him. For all Munter had done, it wasn't enough. A jolt coursed through the Pelican, and it jerked off to the right- taking Teams Raven and Piranha down. The ten Spartans were yanked from the Pelican by the impact, and Cole saw them impact the ground as November-151 zoomed away from them. Cole wasn't sure when he had grabbed onto a metal handhold, but he hung on for dear life. All the same, he was yelling at Leon.

"We HAVE to pick them up!"

"No! We don't have the time! We've got a miss-"

At that moment, said missile impacted the Pelican's remaining engine, sending the transport craft into a roll. Cole and the others did not think twice. As the burning Pelican raced through the streets of downtown New Rydell, the four Spartans remaining on board leapt from it, several seconds before both engines went critical and blasted what was left of the dropship to pieces. Cole gritted his ship, his thoughts on Warrant Officer James Munter. One more reason he was in this fight.

Leon roared to the rest of the team. "Squad! Check BIOCOM for injuries!"

Cole pulled up readouts on his armor's HUD. His blood pressure was elevated; nothing out of the ordinary given what had happened. Two sensors in his lower legs painted a slightly less rosy picture-he'd suffered a hairline fracture in his right fibula. To further things along, one of his ribs was broken, and he'd suffered a laceration to two of his oblique muscles.

"Not too bad," he coughed through TEAMCOM. "Just don't shoot me." He laughed grimly, even with TEAMCOM on.

"Try asking the rebels to do that, Cole," Leon replied. "Naomi, Eve- anything?"

The two female Spartans, who had remained silent since their departure from _Sahara_, finally spoke up. Eve went first.

"Four sprains in the lower back, shoulder and ankle. So basically, I'm fine."

Naomi followed up with, "Totally fine. No injuries."

Leon scoffed, and Cole had half a mind to do the same. Naomi would never incur injuries from falls or tumbles- those were for the rest of Team Falcon to suffer. Naomi continued to speak. "And you, Chief?"

Leon shook his head. "Nothing worth noting. All right, Falcon- let's get moving- we've got half a click to the rally point."

Cole nodded and checked his equipment. His MA5K and M6 were both working fine, and he had enough spare clips for each. His field gear was undamaged, and every armor subsystem was functioning- silently, he thanked Munter for getting the Pelican as low as it did- things might have been a whole lot worse if they'd been dropped from altitude, and his armor did not have a cushioning system.

A voice brought him back to reality. "Cole! You coming or not?" He clacked the bolt of his carbine, turned on his armor's active camouflage unit and sprinted after Leon, just as nearby explosions sent trembles coursing through the soles of his boots.

It amazed Cole what the rebels had managed to do to New Rydell after only a few minutes of fighting- as they sprinted through the city, rockets and grenades crossed the streets between UNSC positions on one side, and Insurrectionist positions on the other. Even though no-one fired on the nearly-invisible Spartans, Falcon danced a staccato rhythm as they crossed streets and ran through buildings, attempting to avoid stray rounds from either side. Finally, they arrived outside a large thirty-story building with several squads of Marines. The entrance had defenses similar to the emplacements Cole had seen earlier, while riding in November-151. Sandbag nests housed heavy machine-gun emplacements, and several Warthogs stood parked nearby, just in case.

Leon whispered over TEAMCOM, "Okay, team. Show yourselves, we don't wanna spook 'em out."

Cole nodded, wondering a little while after he became visible why he had bothered nodding- Leon wouldn't have been able to see him.

"Halt! Who goes there?!" A stern voice called out at them.

Leon took his left hand off the front of his rifle and raised his right so that the rifle's muzzle pointed harmlessly into the air. Cole, Naomi and Eve followed his lead.

Leon hollered to the Marines, "NavSpecWar team Tower-One! Are we clear now?"

The Marine who had called to them did not seem convinced, and when several of his subordinates began to lower their weapons, he barked for them to remain on their guard. He yelled to Falcon again. "Fire!"

Leon relaxed, letting his rifle drift back down.

The challenge came again. "Fire! Or so help me we WILL blow your fuckin' brains out!"

Leon did not wait to reply. "Whites! That good enough for a jarhead?"

The Marine relaxed. "All right Tower-One, get moving! Command said someone would be comin' this way, never thought they'd send swabbies in, though… So much for meeting Helljumpers…"

The man tailed off, but stood aside. His men followed suit, opening a path for the Spartans.

"We're here for Shepherd," Leon told the men as they passed them.

"Well no shit, I thought you were here for the booze! Bring up a few bottles for us, why don't you?"

Leon shook his head, and the rest of Team Falcon followed him through the glass doors of the skyscraper and into the lobby. As they moved towards the elevators that would take them upstairs, they heard the leader of the Marines outside yell at them once.

"Hey! Tower-One-Lead! You got a name?"

"Leon! What's yours?"

"Tell you what! You live through this fight, and I'll ring you up and tell you!"

Leon sighed, and then joined the others waiting inside the elevator. As the doors hissed shut, Cole thought he heard Leon murmur, "Make that offer to Tyler and you've got a deal."

The ride was quiet, with only the occasional click or shift as Eve, Cole or Naomi checked their armor and gear one final time.

After less than a minute, though, Cole felt the elevator slide to a stop, and training kicked in as the doors hissed open. He and Leon spread out in the wings of a spacious glass-roofed atrium while Eve and Naomi moved ahead in the center. Cole saw nothing worth noting- besides the Arcadian greenery of the building's top floor, there was nothing- no movement, no sound- nothing.

"Quiet. No visuals either…" Naomi whispered over TEAMCOM.

"Naomi, switch to thermals. Eve- UV sights. Cole, boost your mike to full and switch off TEAMCOM. Hand signals only, I want com silence from here on out. Let's go."

Cole turned the ambient noise sensors on his com suite all the way up to full, but kept his foreground receivers at their normal level- no point in being permanently deafened if a bomb happened to go off.

It was a silent walk for most of the team, but Cole, hearing all ambient noises amplified over fifty times, could hear the goings-on of the new battle for the city. Distant _booms_and _thuds_signaled the detonation of bombs, rockets and UNSC artillery fire. The fainter sounds of heavy machine guns were audible too- evidence that the Marines were doing something right, for a change. The UNSC had prepared well for this attack- almost too well, Cole thought.

Almost.

They reached a glass door at the end of the atrium, and through it Cole saw, of all things, a man in a suit seated behind a hardwood desk. Roughly a dozen men in black body armor with various weapons surrounded him. Cole turned his audio sensors back to their normal levels as Naomi opened the door and the rest of Falcon entered the room behind her.

The man in the suit stood and greeted them. "Tower Group, I presume? I was told of your arrival, although- and pardon me for my presumptuousness- I imagined that there would be… more of you." His voice reminded Cole inexplicably of a tub of axle grease.

Leon replied. "We're all you get- sorry, sir."

"Please- you need hardly bother with the formalities. Relax, or as your superiors might say it… _at ease_?"

Cole frowned behind his polarized faceplate. He liked this man less and less every moment. Granted, he wasn't sure he could like anyone who mocked military protocol, but this man was digging himself a special hole in Cole's mind.

Leon spoke for the squad. "Sir, we need to get you out of here now. The rebels are attacking, and your security detail will likely be unable-"

"While I appreciate your concern, _soldier_, I see absolutely no need to hurry. If I may say so, you do not seem to be placing much faith in the ability of the Marines to hold this city against _Insurrectionists_. Imagine what would happen if the _Covenant_ came to-"

"ENOUGH!" Leon roared and rammed a fist down onto the desk, sending deep cracks through the wood. "We're gonna kick the rebs out of this god- or gods-damned city, but Navy needs your damned ass safe- don't ask me why! So we are going to escort you through the city, or we'll be dragging your unconscious ass through it!"

Shepherd seemed hardly swayed, but got up all the same and began walking towards the door, with his security detail in his wake. Leon and Cole stood at the front of the formation, and Naomi and Eve brought up the rear.

It was a largely uneventful ride down. Cole passed the roughly sixty seconds by reviewing the evac route, growing quickly bored with details he'd already reviewed a hundred times over on the flight down. He was slightly relieved to see the ground floor lobby again. The Marines from before were standing outside, and a new figure had joined them.

The figure, clad in a strange jet-black version of Marine body armor, stood at attention, and did not present his hand as they approached. Leon withheld his hand as well.

"Major Alexei Turayev, 2nd Battalion, 101st Division, UNSC Marine Corps. You are NSW Tower Group?" His heavy accent was similar to one of an old Earth nation- Russia, Cole remembered it was called.

"Affirmative, sir."

"And this, I assume, is Mister Shepherd."

"A true pleasure, Major." A chill ran down Cole's spine as Shepherd spoke.

Turayev did not move. Nor did his expressions change. He simply gestured to Team Falcon, who followed him into a makeshift tent that had clearly been recently set up. Shepherd and his security team followed them closely, much to Cole's discomfort. The thought of a dozen rifles wielded by non-Spartans behind his back did not sit well with them. It was hard enough accepting Marines doing so- a private security team made him even more uneasy.

Turayev lead them to a three-dimensional holographic display of the city. In a momentary lapse of control, Cole gasped when he saw the map.

The city was split into two sections; red and green. The red sections were almost as numerous and as widespread as the green ones- the Insurrectionists were quite frankly pounding the crap out of the UNSC after less than an hour, despite the preparations the Marines had taken.

Major Turayev looked at Cole once, and then turned his attention back to the board. "Yes," he said, "it's shocking. I know that. But we _are_putting up a fight. However, that is not the important thing. CENTCOM has told me that you are escorting Shepherd into orbit, so I am here to brief you."

A series of small green and red arrows popped into view all over the display.

"We," Turayev said, pointing at a cluster of arrows, "are here." A round green blip appeared next. "That is your extraction point," Turayev continued.

Despite the fact that he had reviewed the STRATMAP readings a dozen times, Cole did not fail to be disappointed by the fact that the extraction point was on the opposite side of the city from where they had rendezvoused with Shepherd. Apparently either unaware of or ignoring Cole's disappointment, Turayev continued to speak, just as a winding blue line appeared on the readout of the city. "There are three bridges crossing the Nesair River within the city limits. Currently, we hold one- the other two are contested." Two tiny markers lying along the line of blue flashed red at one-second intervals, while another marker positioned north of the other two glowed green.

Turayev continued. "I cannot guarantee that my Marines will hold the north bridge for long, but neither can I guarantee that we can take and secure the two southern bridges."

Leon nodded, but Cole knew he was tense- they were losing time here, and it was already dark out. "So our plan doesn't really change? Sir?"

Turayev stared at Leon. "No, Petty Officer, it does not." He cleared his throat, and continued. "That is all you need to know, aside from one thing. The battle has knocked out all our long-range COM relays and communications satellites in orbit, so you will be out of contact with any and all UNSC forces outside tactical com range, or several hundred meters, in other words. However, our enemies are similarly limited, because we chose to blast the relays to hell rather than let the damned rebs get them- well worth it if you ask me."

Leon nodded, and Cole followed suit. The four Spartans left the tent into the now-dark city, with Shepherd's dozen-strong guard in tow. Just as they walked into the street, thunder cracked across the heavens, and rain began to relentlessly beat down on the Spartans and the guards. Cole smiled as he imagined the look on Shepherd's face as his immaculate suit was subjected to ton after ton of rainwater. He didn't turn back, though. He had to keep his mind on the mission.

At that moment, though, another distraction presented itself- Cole's TEAMCOM channel beeped.

"Tower One-Lead, come in Tower One-Lead- this is Tower Four-One leading Tower-Four and Five. There are enemy infantry en route to the rendezvous point from the south- should we engage or stealth past them?"

Leon flipped on his com unit, but before he could do anything, the sound of gunfire sounded from down the street- behind them. One Marine behind them yelled out, "REBS!" before being cut down by enemy fire.

As Cole joined the others in scrambling for cover, he heard Leon roar into his com, "Engage! Tower Four-One, engage NOW, damn it!"

"Solid copy. Engaging enemy infantry."


	16. Chapter 15: In Chess, Pawns Go First

Author's Note: To anyone who reads this- sorry it's been so long. I've finally worked out the rest of the plot. The most recent info from Bungie about their newest upcoming game actually threw a spanner into the works, but it's all good now. Enjoy, and review if possible.

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

**1900 HOURS, 13 OCTOBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**FINANCIAL DISTRICT, NEW RYDELL, MAMORE COLONY, IOTA URSAE SYSTEM**

Cole's carbine clacked as it ejected a spent magazine. Cole immediately crouched down behind the overturned Warthog he was using for cover. "Cover me!" he yelled, and he rose from a crouching position as he slipped a clip from a panel on his armor. Slapping it in, he activated the photoreactive panels that coated the SPI suit, and sprang out from his hiding place.

His camouflage didn't last- the photoreactive panels reset only several seconds after he moved. However, the split second that the background appeared to get up and sprint across the street was all Cole needed. In half a dozen three-round bursts, he dropped five Insurrectionist soldiers while the rest of Team Falcon rained covering fire on those positioned further down the street. Ducking into an alley, he checked TEAMBIO and activated TEAMCOM. According to the scanners, all of Falcon was healthy, and that was all he needed to know.

"Guys- we _have_ to get Shepherd moving- if we lose the spaceport he'll be torn to pieces down here."

Leon's voice answered. "That son-of-a-Grunt would deserve it- but fair enough. Tower Four-One, do you copy?"

There was static for a moment, after which Blaine A002 replied.

"Copy, Tower One-Lead. What's up?" It perturbed Cole slightly to know Blaine was so nonchalant.

"The rebs know we're guarding Shepherd- they can't see us leave!"

"Let me guess- sneak through the back and take your places?"

"Affirmative. Can you do it?"

"Can you feed a Grunt to a Jackal?"

"Good to know. See you on the other side- Leon out."

The already deafening din of the battle was added to as Teams Heron and Mongoose unleashed ordnance into the backs of the rebels closest to the pinned Marines and Spartans. As the platoon-strength unit dropped face-first into the ankle-deep water, the ten SPARTAN-IIIs sprinted through the burning wreckage that had not been there only a few minutes previous. Blaine walked right up to Leon.

"All right. Get out of here- we'll be decoys and draw their fire as long as we can."

Leon nodded. "Good luck, Blaine."

Blaine gave Leon the two-finger Spartan smile, then quipped, "We're Spartans, remember? We make our luck- and it's time to cash in." As he heard this, it struck Cole that Blaine was one of a very unique group in Alpha Company. They weren't uncomfortable with emotion, and didn't lock it down, even in a firefight. They made friends with Spartan and non-Spartan alike. Whether Blaine had always been like that or whether it was the effect of Lieutenant Ambrose's training, Cole didn't know. But what he did know was that he was going to suggest that Blaine return to Onyx to train more Spartans once he was old enough. In the background, Heron and Mongoose opened fire into another group of approaching rebels, bringing his train of thought to a screeching halt.

Leon turned to the rest of Team Falcon, and by extension to Shepherd and his men.

"All right, let's get moving. The UNSC could decide to flatten the city at any moment and we wouldn't be aware of it."

They set off at a brisk pace, with the four Spartans sweeping the streets from in front and on the flanks as Shepherd's security detail protected the man himself further back. There was something Cole didn't quite like about the man besides his arrogant nature- there was something almost cowardly about it. UNSC brass might sit behind a desk on some safe colony like Reach, but they'd been soldiers at one point- they'd hefted rifles and fired Magnetic Accelerator Cannons when they were still ruddy-faced and young, no matter how many stars, medals or ribbons they wore now. Shepherd, though… Cole couldn't quite phrase it, but something about the man grated on his nerves.

After roughly twenty minutes of quiet travel, Shepherd spoke, sending another cascade of ice-cold chills down Cole's spine.

"Would it not be more efficient for you Spartans to clear the way ahead, and to signal back when it is safe to follow? That way, if you encountered hostiles, you need not worry about the safety of your 'package'."

Cole turned on his heel. "No way," he snapped. We're not leaving you to be sniped by some trigger-happy rebel. You will stay close by. Got it, Ritchie Rich?"

Leon rounded on Cole. "Cool it, Spartan. Shepherd's got a point. We can move more quickly as a smaller group, and we can cover their progress from a defensible position once we've cleared the area, assuming there are any hostiles left, which won't be happening if we clear potential red zones ahead of time."

Cole scowled, grateful that his visor was polarized. Leon was putting far too much stock by what Shepherd said. But Leon was the team leader- and every bit as stubborn as he was. There was no point in arguing this. He sighed, "Fine…" and looked around. None of the buildings nearby seemed easily defensible by a dozen men against the hundreds or thousands the Insurrectionists could send to take Shepherd. Again the obvious loomed large in Cole's mind- the only way that twelve guards and a team of Spartans could protect Shepherd was to keep him on the move.

He turned to Leon. "We are not leaving him somewhere here- they could just walk into wherever he is and just take him- best thing would be to hide him someplace."

Shepherd interjected. "If I may, Spartans- I have a reinforced underground bunker not far from here. My company started building it when we heard the Covenant was glassing the Outer Colonies- it can hold against attack on the ground or the air- I'd even wager it could withstand an orbital bombardment…"

"Don't get cocky, Shepherd," Cole snapped. "Holding up against explosives is one thing, but if the Covenant decides to glass this place over, you'd better hope you're off-planet."

"Charming. Now, are we moving towards the bunker or not?"

Cole turned to his team. "Leon?" he asked.

Falcon's leader hesitated. After several seconds, he looked directly at Shepherd.

"How will we signal you? Major Turayev says we have no com contact outside of several hundred meters."

Shepherd stroked his chin for several moments, eyes locked at a distant point in space. At one point, Leon actually waved his gauntleted hand in front of Shepherd's face, to little effect.

After roughly a minute, Shepherd seemed to reanimate, turning to the Spartans and clearing his throat.

"There is a remote frequency that can be keyed into your comlink units- it is an ultra-high frequency transmission with an extremely short wavelength- virtually nothing can block it besides a blanket jamming signal. Broadcast that signal when you reach your objective, and we'll receive it. We'll make our way to the extraction point, and if you've done your job, any resistance we encounter should be minimal."

As much as Cole doubted that the rebels would stay clear of a route just because they'd been beaten back, he could see the sense in Shepherd's plan. If the Spartans could independently secure the route to the spaceport, or even simply scout the way, they wouldn't need to worry about any harm coming to Shepherd on the way- they could simply deal with the threat at hand. He nodded his assent to the rest of the squad, and judging by the reactions he received from Naomi and Eve, Falcon had a majority vote for the plan.

Leon seemed to have a misgiving. "And your guards can keep you up and running until we've secured the way to the extraction point?"

"They're not for show, Petty Officer. Believe me- these men know how to do their job."

"All right, we'll escort you there, then." Shepherd seemed miffed at this.

"Your UNSC holds most of the city this side of the river- we shouldn't have any problems."

_Your _UNSC? Cole frowned inside his visor at the comment, but paid it no further heed- many civilians did not see the UNSC as having any part to play in their normal lives. Cole wondered if he'd have thought that way if he hadn't joined SPARTAN-III, but again, he pushed the thought aside- this was his life now, and his teammates were his family.

Leon had made up his mind. "All right- we'll stick with that for now." He turned to Shepherd. "My team and I will keep our coms open- send us a signal when you reach the bunker- one pulse is a-okay, two and we come running. We'll pulse you when we've secured the extraction point. One is secure, two is stay away."

Shepherd looked almost bored. "Very well… see you on the other side, Spartans."

With that, the thirteen men turned and departed down an adjacent road. Cole turned to Leon.

"You're seriously going to just let them go? At least let one of us tail them- see if they make it to the bunker." He fought the urge to finish his request with _if it exists_.

Leon shook his head dismissively. "No- we've wasted enough time already, and we're short on manpower as it is. We're moving out."

Cole suppressed a grumble. Allowing Shepherd to move beyond where he could easily be monitored added a whole battery of variables to the myriad uncertainties that this mission was already fraught with. He found himself missing the simplicity of the New Constantinople operation, when the UNSC's target didn't have a mind and will of its own. _And we had Tyler on New Constantinople_, he noted bitterly.

If the rest of the team had misgivings, they did not voice them. "Come on, people," Leon barked, "we've got an EZ to secure." And with that, they were off.

Buildings, most of them on fire or in various states of ruin, flashed by. Cole lost track of time and of location, as seconds and minutes passed by in a deep blue-and-orange blur. Before he knew it, he and the three other members of Team Falcon were standing, stealthed, at a road that lead into a massive plaza. The sight took Cole's breath away.

None of the buildings surrounding the two-kilometer wide circular piazza were intact; most weren't even standing. The wreckage of UNSC and rebel vehicles littered the areas, mostly burning and damaged Warthogs, but several USNC Scorpion tanks lay, overturned and belching smoke, at various points in the square. A massive marble statue of a female figure had evidently stood in the middle of the space at one point, but now its constituent pieces lay it its own feet- the only part still intact besides the granite plinth on which it was mounted.

The telltale yellow pinpricks of tracer rounds tore across the square, momentarily visible before disappearing into their final destination, be it a wall, a Warthog's ruptured fuel tank or a human head. The _cracks_ from firing weapons and the _pings_ from impacts were constant. Rockets, tiny silvery-gold projectiles traveling ahead of a tail of fire, roared and streaked across the empty center of the square, impacting makeshift barricades and assorted light cover with explosive results, tearing through the momentary shelters like a flamethrower through ice. What was more, festooning the entire grisly scene was corpses.

By the dozen, human bodies were strewn all over the wreck of the plaza. Whether dressed in the green battle dress uniform of the UNSC Marines or in the dull gray-brown of the rebel faction they were engaging, none of the corpses were intact. Some had massive gaping wounds, while others simply leaked blood through relatively small punctures in their uniforms. The worst, however, were barely recognizable as humans- scorched, missing extremities, mangled by shrapnel or a mix of all three, these types outnumbered all the others, and their numbers grew as ordnance continued to fly back and forth across the square.

Falcon was located at one of seven egress points to the combat zone, and it was beyond impossible to tell who controlled the other six. A small distance away, a group of Marines were taking cover behind the wreck of a burned-out Scorpion tank, only moving up to send bursts of fire towards unseen enemies across the square.

Cole, Leon, Eve and Naomi slowly approached the knot of Marines, who instantly turned their rifles at the four Spartans. One of them, a red-haired and red-bearded man who seemed older than most of the rest, seemed to be yelling his head off at Falcon, despite the five-meter distance separating the two groups.

"Shells!" the red-haired man called.

"What?" was Leon's hollered reply.

"Shells, shells damn it! Answer or we blow the shit straight out your asses!"

"What? The challenge is 'Fire', you idiot!"

This struck the red-haired Marine dumb. "That's not what we were told!" he roared back.

Cole took a step towards the Marines, but this only prompted those who'd relaxed their grips to bring their sights in line. Cole immediately raised his hands to head level with his palms facing forward, the universal 'I mean no harm' gesture.

The red-haired soldier, who apparently spoke for the Marines, turned to Leon. "All right, so who the hell are you guys?" he demanded.

"NavSpecWar Tower Group! We've got homework from ONI and we need to get past here!"

"You're Navy? Well I'll be… we're with the 141st, and we're making a push for the river! But we need to take Sword Park first! You guys have to cross the river for your op, right?"

Leon, Naomi and Cole nodded, while Eve moved away from the cover and kept a lookout.

The Marine bit his lip. "All right- you help us with this square, and we'll get you to Conway Bridge! Deal?"

Falcon's acknowledgement lights lit up. Cole glanced at his HUD for the first time- he brought up the IFF tags of all nearby Marines; according to the readout, they'd just spoken to Lieutenant Douglas Connell, one of the last eight officers in what was left of the 141st Marine Battalion. The entire battalion, or what was left of it, was scattered all over the plaza known as Sword Park. Two hundred and six men were left, and the eight lieutenants among them were all that was left of the command structure- the major and all nine of the battalion's captains were dead. Cole's eyes widened in spite of himself when he scrolled down the 141st's KIA list- it simply went on and on.

Cole pulled back the bolt on his MA5K and ran a quick diagnostic on his SPI suit- three of the photoreactive panels had failed completely, and one more was having trouble compensating for shifting light levels- his camouflage abilities were effectively nil. He looked over towards Leon and made a cutting gesture across his throat. Leon nodded and called out to the rest of the team. When they had gathered, Leon pulled up a TACMAP of the area, an action mirrored by Cole, Naomi and Eve.

"All right," he whispered, "Cole has no camo, so he'll be with the jarheads for now. Eve, Naomi- you're with me. We move around the flanks and pick off any rebel that gets too curious- we move Marines on the flanks back to regroup with Cole and the El-Tee in the center. He'll cover you."

Acknowledgement lights lit up, and not one was red.

As Eve, Leon and Naomi filed off; shadows amongst the burning wreckage, Cole crept in a crouch towards Connell's cluster of surviving Marines, taking care not to expose his head to enemy fire, which flowed abundantly through the cover-free areas of Sword Park.

"Hey, where's the rest of your squad?" the Lieutenant asked, one eyebrow furrowed.

"Skirmish duty on the flanks!" Cole reported. The Lieutenant snickered.

"Leave the heavy fighting to the jarheads… as usual. Ah well- more for us. Now," he said, suddenly serious, "we have to regroup with the rest of the battalion, and then we can make a push towards the river."

Cole shook his head. "No. You have two hundred men left- if the rebels took out so much of your company, there's no way what's left can-"

"The cowards didn't take the One-Four-One on!" the lieutenant yelled, looking almost murderous. "They drove us across the river, back from the chokepoint at Bastion Bridge. But we were doing okay- until the bastards blew the bridge up. Anyone who fell into the water and didn't die was gunned down. Everyone you see here made it to the other side."

Cole blinked. All the same, this was not the time for reflecting on the misfortunes of war, he decided. He looked up towards Connell.

"All right- I'll move up and take out the enemy fire teams. You move in and pick up any pinned marines. Lather, rinse, repeat."

Connell shook his head. "You can't possibly-"

"With all due respect, sir, I am stronger, faster and better trained than any three of your men put together. All I need is to know nobody's coming up on my rear." Despite this, Connell bit his lip, seemingly unconvinced. After several more seconds, he relented. "All right, get moving! Go!"

Cole got up and sprinted from cover, accelerating to his top speed of thirty kilometers per hour. Just as he neared the first nest of pinned Marines, Leon yelled at him over TEAMCOM. "Cole! Wait- wait up! They're retreating, I say again, the rebels are retreating! They're falling back!"

"Then let's go after the bastards!"

"You idiot! Use your head! They have the advantage, so why would they retreat? It's a…" Leon tailed off.

"Leon? Leon! Eve, Naomi- what's going on?"

In a very small voice, Eve directed his gaze. "Just above the horizon, east-north-east."

Cole followed Eve's instruction, and almost wished that he hadn't. Dozens of plumes of white vapor trailed behind an equal number of rockets. The projectiles arced high in the air over the river, headed directly towards the remaining UNSC positions on the near side of the river.

Cole clicked his com on and deactivated the channel control, broadcasting to every soldier- Marine, Spartan or otherwise, within local com range.

"Get to cover, I repeat- get to cover NOW!"


	17. Chapter 16: Loyalties

**CHAPTER 16**

**1923 HOURS, 13 OCTOBER 2536 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**DOWNTOWN NEW RYDELL, MAMORE COLONY, IOTA URSAE SYSTEM**

Fire, thunder and wind erupted all around Cole as the missiles struck. What few structures had remained miraculously undamaged though the 141st's firefight with the rebel forces were completely leveled- blasted down to their foundations. Explosions chained through Sword Park, whether induced by explosives alone, or fanned by detonating fuel and ammo stores in vehicles; undamaged or otherwise. And still omnipresent was the sound of the wounded and dying, although they were now somewhat diminished against the cacophony of general destruction. Cole was sure of the real reason, though.

The dying made sound. The dead did not.

Cole scrambled through the rubble- and body-strewn square, looking for a sign, a signal- anything that could tell him where his team or the accompanying Marines were. What he found first sent his heart plummeting into the region of his stomach.

Lieutenant Douglas Connell sat propped up against what was once a wall, but Cole was certain that the marine would have been luckier to be lying dead with his men. One eye was completely missing, the empty socket continuously dripped blood, and a long bloody gash ran from his forehead down across his mouth and ending at his chin. The lieutenant's right forearm was folded like the closed cover of a book, and his right leg stuck out at an angle that could not be natural for any human. The lieutenant's remaining eye was dull and seemed glazed over, but the injured Marine still seemed at least somewhat aware of his surroundings, gesturing with his unbroken arm at Cole.

Cole slowly crawled over to the dying Marine, his eyes wide. There was no help for him now- even if anyone could stop Connell from bleeding out, there was no way his body could cope with the shock. No-one would be able to; not even Spartans. He raised his face to Connell's. The lieutenant's eyes focused on Cole, and his mouth opened as if to speak, but after a brief gurgle, the sound died, and Connell went limp.

Cole stood up, oblivious to the surrounding chaos, Connell's blood on his gauntlets. He looked around, surveying the vista that was the ruins of Sword Park, and at the same time taking none of it in. It seemed so- futile. Humanity was already facing a vastly superior opponent in the monolithic Covenant- but that still wasn't cause enough to unify. If survival wasn't a valid reason to put differences aside, Cole wondered, what was?

At that moment, though, there was a flicker of motion in his peripheral vision, and training kicked in. Diving behind a small mound of rubble, he activated his TACMAP and set a NAV marker on himself before sweeping the area with his MA5K. Upon seeing three shimmers in the air, he relaxed.

Naomi spoke first. "Nice of you to drop a NAV marker. It was getting hard to see you."

"Can it, Eve."

"Apparently the camo isn't the only thing with damage…"

"All right, Spartans, cut the chatter!" Leon barked. "We have to move! Get going!"

Cole, only too happy to obey, took off, the rest of Falcon hot on his heels.

It didn't take long to reach the bank of the Nesair river, although there may as well have been no change: on the other bank, buildings burned as well, and in the heaps of wreckage that predominated the new landscape of the city, Cole's enhanced eyes, further augmented by his visor's magnification abilities, picked up flashed of weapons fire and explosions ripping through the now-darkened city.

Naomi was speaking to Leon. "We should take the Conway Bridge- Connell was telling us that Bastion Bridge was taken out, but the others are still there. That's our best shot in a straight line to the EZ."

Leon nodded. "All right Spartans- move out!"

The distance of two kilometers, through rubble, wreckage, corpses and stray weapons fire would have been daunting for Marines, and possibly even for ODSTs. But Falcon, each of its members primed and alert, picked its way through danger as soon as they sense it, which, between their suits' motion trackers, their auditory and visual augmentations, and the legendary 'sixth sense' that all soldiers reputedly possessed, seemed almost relaxed as they moved swiftly through the gutted innards of New Rydell City. But despite appearances, sweat pooled on Cole's brow, and the grip he had on his MA5K was a little tighter than it should have been. Complacency could ruin a mission, plain and simple.

As the team approached Conway Bridge, a nod from Leon sent the entire team into a scramble for cover- they wouldn't be doing anyone favors by rushing and getting themselves killed in the process. If ONI wanted Shepherd, they could have the slick bastard, and Cole would only too happily hand him over. In the meantime, though…

Naomi reported in. "Four hostiles. Rooftops. Two manning a heavy MG, one's got an M7, and- oh no…"

Stones settled in Cole's gut, and Leon mirrored his thoughts as he barked, "What is it?"

"Last one's manning a mobile Gauss turret."

Cole grimaced. Gauss cannons were miniature-sized versions of the UNSC's primary ship-to-ship weapon in space- the magnetic accelerator cannon. While not as powerful as a full-sized MAC nor able to accelerate projectiles to similar speeds, a Gauss cannon could still put a round clean through a Scorpion tank. Four humans in SPI armor would be no trouble. Avoiding the shots was their only chance at survival.

Leon opened up TEAMCOM and fired off orders. "Cole- cover fire: ten-meter spread, suppression fire. Eve- take out the SMG so Naomi can scale up and get to the Gauss. I've got the MG."

Cole pivoted and poked the barrel of his MA5K just over the overturned truck he was using as cover, and sent bursts of lead hurtling just above the edge of the buildings that Naomi had reported were harboring hostiles. It wasn't his job to kill- just to suppress, to keep the rebels off-balance long enough for his teammates to get in and deal the real damage. It was just as well- more often than not, his external microphone picked up the sounds of metal _ping_ing off concrete. Firing blind did _not_ suit him.

The rest of Falcon raced into action. With two pinpoint shots from her M6, Eve sent the first rebel down with a hole in his chest to match the one between his eyes, then primed three flashbang grenades and tossed them into the intervening space between the Spartans and the Insurrectionists. Leon and Naomi took advantage of the momentary distraction to race across the bridge, making it halfway in a matter of seconds, despite enemy attempts to impede their progress.

Cole continued to keep his team covered, firing three-round bursts alternately at the machine-gun team and the Gauss gun operator. But then his carbine _clacked_ and ejected a now-spent magazine. Cole worked like an automaton; he grabbed a new clip and slapped it into the butt of the weapon without so much as a conscious thought. Just as he got his bearings again, though, he heard a slight _whirring_ sound and- reacted.

Without thought, he dived out from behind the truck, just in time to see a bluish-white projectile- almost like a miniature star- strike the truck, splitting the vehicle clean in two and scattering the halves like leaves in a tornado. The Gauss shell just kept going, breaking through the bridge and splashing into the water below.

Cole lay prone, cursing himself. Lieutenant Ambrose and Chief Mendez had taught him this- had taught every Alpha Company Spartan this- _always keep moving_. 'To stay still is to die- corpses don't move,' he repeated to himself. Gritting his teeth, he got up and turned back towards the fight.

The three seconds without suppressing fire had allowed the machine-gun post to lay down a withering blanket of fire across the bridge- Leon and Naomi had been forced back to heavier cover. Every second, though, the rebel manning the Gauss gun would fire, forcing the Spartans from cover and exposing them to the machine gun. Cole tightened his grip around his carbine and squeezed the trigger.

The shots impacted all over the Gauss gun, causing sparks to erupt all over the weapon and the gunner to fall away, shock evident on his face. Leon, Naomi and Eve grabbed their chance and hurtled towards the far side of the bridge, while Cole turned his attention to the machine gun.

He was too late. Even before he could pull the trigger, the warning was already halfway out of his mouth. The machine gun's muzzle lit up, sending a hail of lead down into the street and bridge below, filling the air with a pinkish-red spray as a fair number of them impacted, and then penetrated, Eve-A025's Semi-Powered Infiltration armor. Eve buckled over, managing miraculously to send half a dozen rounds into one of the gunners before collapsing face-down onto the ground.

Cole's mind emptied. This had happened before. And like that other time, there were now only two things in existence- him, and his target. Abandoning cover, he raced towards the two-story building just to the left at the end of the bridge, spraying his MA5K on full automatic the whole time. When the bolt _clacked_ again and ejected the spent magazine, Cole did not even bother reaching for a new one. He drew his combat knife instead, and crashed through the door of the nondescript building shoulder-first.

He could see the debris moving in slow-motion; every instant seemed an eternity, and he couldn't take advantage of it- he was just as slow as the rest of the universe. What seemed like an hour later, Cole burst onto the roof, shattering the steel trapdoor like it was cardboard.

The rebel's eyes were wide and his jaw was slack- while his mouth was engaged in a wordless stutter, an M6 pistol was raised and pointed at where Cole had stood a second earlier.

Cole didn't care.

Seven _cracks_ rang out as the pistol discharged, sending hot lead tearing through the air as the rebel tried desperately to slow his attacker- five simply found space, but two hit, lodging themselves in Cole's shoulders and sending a spray of red mist into the air just as they sent twin lightning bolts of sensation and pain rocketing and coursing through the Spartan's body.

Cole didn't care.

A lightning backhand sent the Insurrectionist sprawling along the roof, and Cole advanced, relentless. The taller of the two, the man in everyday clothing and with nondescript brown hair and green eyes, was scrambling, crawling, grabbing along the lip of the building's roof, trying anything, no matter how futile, to gain distance. Cole reached out and picked the man up by the neck, raising him to eye level as his other arm poised, combat knife ready. The rebel, stared, eyes wide with terror, at Cole, and he gulped- Cole felt the lump in his throat move downwards, but held it there, trapping it level with his left hand as it grasped the man's neck. The eyes bulged further, staring deeper into Cole's own, begging, _pleading…_

Cole didn't care.

There was a flash of silver and spray of red, and Cole let go. The Insurrectionist's broken form fell limply towards the street two stories down, landing with a _crunch_.

How long Cole stood staring at the broken corpse was anyone's guess, but by the time he looked away from it, Falcon wasn't the only team in the area. Nine other Spartans were securing the area. Cole paid them near no heed- the only IFF tag that caught his eye was adjacent to A025's, and he remained frozen, his mind now going as numb as the rest of his form.

It was Leon who brought him back. "Hey Cole- any other statues up there?" he called, and feeling flooded back into Cole's body. He shook his head, taking an extra moment to glance down at his now-bloodstained hands, and it all came back to him. He'd done it again- he'd lost control. If Eve was gone… but she wasn't. On his TEAMBIO, Eve's vitals were erratic, but they weren't quite in the red. He sighed in relief- quietly.

When he got back down to street level, Eve, who was back on her feet, handed him his carbine. He accepted, and asked, "How is it?"

"Nothing too major- she almost went into shock, but Biofoam stopped the internal bleeding before it became critical. A shot just missed her septum- she's lucky to still be here." It wasn't Eve that had said that, though.

Cole's insides flooded with relief at the news, but he grimaced at the wintry tone in which it was given. He glanced over at Team Raven, and saw each member engaged, but he could have sworn that Karen glanced over at him and shook her head ever-so-slightly. He gritted his teeth; there would be time for this later when they got out of this.

Leon drew himself up, and Cole imagined he was about to speak, but his TEAMCOM crackled to life. Cole's upper lip curled- Leon would not appreciate being interrupted, even by FLEETCOM brass.

"All NavSpecWar teams in Sector A12 rendezvous at standby coordinates immediately- inbound Insurrectionist aerial assets will attempt to eliminate package. Do not lose the package- repeat, do not lose the package."

All eyes turned to Leon, who nodded his head. "STARS must be in place… All right teams- we secure the route ahead, and then give our mark the green light, just like we planned," he said, to a chorus of nods.

As the Spartans advanced through the wreckage once again, Cole, who was on point alongside Eve, whispered to her on a point-to-point com channel.

"When did Raven and Piranha join us?"

"Don't know- I was sure I was done for, but then next thing I know there's Biofoam all over me and half of Raven are standing there looking down. One of them, I think it was One-Seven-One, gave me the run-down on my condition."

Cole suppressed a sharp inhalation. Eve glanced over at him.

"I'm sorry, Cole- feels like my head's been filled with the damn stuff, so I might not remember everything."

Cole nodded and then squelched the channel.

Several uneventful minutes later, the three teams arrived at a large open paved space. Docking ramps and tethers were placed strategically across the spaceport, and several long-distance cargo elevators shot up into the horizon, their skeletal metal frames seeming black against the orange of the burning city. Cole sized them up. They weren't as large as the orbital elevators on some of the larger UNSC colonies, but they would be sufficient for a smaller colony like Mamore, which wasn't a bulk exporter of any vital materials like Reach was, or like Harvest had been.

What unnerved Cole, though, was the fact that no-one was there. No Marines. No Navy personnel. Nobody. If Shepherd was being sent into orbit, then the UNSC should have secured the immediate extraction point, at the very least. The fact that they hadn't was a cause for concern.

Leon seemed to be thinking along similar lines. With a nod to everyone, he gave a series of quick, sharp gestures, and Teams Raven and Piranha moved to secure sections of the spaceport. Falcon, after a further half-second delay, proceeded to do the same.

"All right, people. Hand gestures only, I want COM silence. Acknowledge."

"Tower-Two Actual, acknowledging," Audrey replied.

"Tower-Five Actual acknowledging," came the low, growling voice of Daniel A385.

"Tower-One Actual acknowledges all. Good hunting." The channel then cut out.

Falcon's four members swept across the landing pads, four silent figures moving noiselessly across the paved surface. Despite the absolute quiet, Cole was uneasy. Training had dictated that finding cover was paramount to survival, but Falcon was now crossing the middle of an open area. However, there were no walls or buildings nearby to use as cover, and Leon's gestures had been orders for Raven to secure the subterranean cargo entrance and for Piranha to find a nearby vantage point. Falcon, in the meantime, was to secure the orbital elevator, since there was no other visible means of getting Shepherd into orbit.

They reached the bottom of the elevator, and found the empty cargo car waiting for them at the bottom, doors open. A quick inspection confirmed everyone's thoughts- there was nothing inside. Looking up, Cole saw the shadow of a frigate docked at the station at the elevator's apex, but the elevator was too high- his IFF reader could not confirm the ship's name or ID number. At that moment, though, a message from STARS chimed through TEAMCOM.

"Insurrectionist ships have regrouped in orbit over New Rydell- Insurrectionist frigate is docked at Station Errant Venture over New Rydell primary cargo elevator. Nearby ground forces confirm immediately."

Cole looked at the others, trying to judge their reaction. A rebel frigate docking above them? _Why_?

"We hold off on warning Shepherd," Leon told them out loud, with his suit's external speakers. Used as he was to his teammates speaking through TEAMCOM, Cole found it strange on the ears.

"Or, you just let him through," a voice behind them said. At that same moment, a shutter raced down Cole's back, and, along with the rest of Falcon, he whirled around with his weapon up.

Ilius Shepherd stood there, a triumphant smile on his face, behind this twelve guards, each of whom pointed their rifles at a member of Falcon.

"Stall him," Leon whispered through TEAMCOM, before raising the other teams on an open channel. Cole turned on his external microphone, and asked angrily, "What's this, Shepherd?"

Shepherd smiled, and Cole wanted nothing more than to walk over and punch the smile clean off the older man's face, but his tactical awareness screamed out at him, and he maintained a tight grip on his MA5K. Shepherd actually cleared his throat before proceeding, and for some reason the fires gnawing at the back of his mind grew. Cole clenched his teeth and slowed his breathing, focusing intently on the smug face in the center of his carbine's sights.

"I believe that this is known as a double-cross, although I disdain the term," Shepherd explained. "I harbor no illusions as to why your UNSC wants me."

"You're a shipbuilding contractor," Cole shot back. "Pretty obvious, really."

Shepherd rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Cole fought the urge to pull the trigger then and there. To do so would be instant death for his team, and he couldn't live with that if he somehow survived.

"Apparently ignorance is the order of the day in the UNSC," Shepherd said condescendingly. "You were given your mission by the- what was it- Office of Naval Intelligence, correct?"

Cole did not answer. Shepherd tutted disapprovingly, as if Cole was a small child caught in some minor wrongdoing, and Cole had to actively focus on keeping his trigger finger still. How Leon had _ever_ tolerated this one was beyond him.

"My skill set is- unique, and your ONI wants it. If I don't acquiesce, I disappear. Simple."

"And the rebels?" Cole spat.

"They've promised me amnesty, and even if they lied, they won't have the resources to do to me what ONI would. I could simply hide, and I doubt they'd find me. For all their supposed justice, they can, at times, be exceedingly thick."

Cole briefly fought the urge to throw up. Shepherd's lack of loyalty was unbelievable. He doubted he would ever meet someone so self-oriented. And now he found himself face to face with just such a person. Bile rose in his throat, but Cole forced it down. He would not let his temper get the best of him- he hoped.

"On my mark in three," Leon whispered through TEAMCOM. Cole nodded and prepared to stall for a few more moments.

"Well you're going to disappear now," he growled to Shepherd, all the while adjusting the aim of his MA5K.

"Two."

"My, aren't we presumptuous?" Shepherd replied.

"One."

"I don't think so," Cole managed to force through clenched teeth.

"GO!"

Cole ducked just as Falcon vanished from sight, and a cacophony of gunfire started off somewhere to his right, downing three of Shepherd's guards then and there. The rest had opened fire at where Falcon had been, and the rounds whizzed above Cole's head, the uninterrupted paths of tracer rounds telling him that his team was now elsewhere.

Cole launched himself from a crouch towards Shepherd, knocking aside one of the black-armored guards like a mannequin before tackling the man, in his designer suit, to the ground. Dimly aware that there was movement in his peripheral vision, Cole whirled around and let off a three-round burst, and one of Shepherd's guards collapsed with holes in his midsection.

By now, almost all the guards were down, and Alpha's Spartans were having no trouble with the rest. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Cole saw Shepherd rise to a crawl and attempt to get up.

"The hell with it," Cole muttered as he sent a single round into the small of Shepherd's back. That would be enough, he reasoned- ONI could have him. But he fought down a deep sense of anger that he didn't just kill Shepherd then and there. Twenty nine Spartans had gone into New Rydell to escort Shepherd, and one had died- Piranha was missing Alicia- trying to do that. Cole had almost lost another one of his teammates in this mission, and what had it all been for? For the third time in what seemed like as many minutes, Cole resisted the temptation to simply empty his magazine into Shepherd's head.

A burning sensation eclipsed that train of thought, though. Lightning erupted across his side and the back of his legs as tracer rounds impacted. He turned, and saw that grey-uniformed rebel troops had arrived and were now pouring fire onto the open landing pads. Cole sent three-round bursts back at them and turned on his undamaged camo panels, moving all the while- anything to make himself a harder target.

Despite his efforts, though, several more rounds impacted his front. Cole bit his lip and returned fire despite the burning pain and the TEAMBIO readouts, which showed a precipitous drop in his blood pressure. He fired back until his magazine _clacked_ empty, and tried to change clips, but found that the task had become much more difficult, all of a sudden. He was slow and clumsy.

Just then, explosions tore across the space port, and the rebels were hidden from view by choking black smoke and orange flames. Cole looked around, and saw through blurred vision half a dozen UNSC Hornets, which unleashed a barrage of explosive and machine-gun fire into the Insurrectionists. Orbital Drop Shock Troopers rappelled down from their perches on the Hornets' sides, and took up firing positions to support Falcon, Piranha and Raven. Cole tried to move forward to assist, but failed, collapsing to his knees instead. He wasn't aware that he had dropped his MA5K carbine, but it made sense, since his hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. He coughed, and a metallic taste on his tongue confirmed that it was blood. And what was more- the corners of his vision were darkening.

Cole tried to stand, but failed even more spectacularly, managing just barely to stop his fall with his arms. As his muscles gave way and he fell to the paved surface, his ears picked up a female voice yelling, "COLE!" He blinked, noting as he lost consciousness that the voice did not belong either to Naomi or Eve.

* * *

He awoke with a pounding headache, and a sharp pain in his lower back. The lower half of his body seemed somewhat numb, but despite that and the pain, he felt reasonably well. He was lucky not to have been killed, which was more than he expected. He looked around.

He was sitting in a metal chair in a small, grey room, and there was a small metal table in front of him, with a chair on the other side facing opposite him. A glaring white light was set in the ceiling. Most interesting, though, was the other person in the room. He was male, perhaps forty or fifty years old, in an immaculate officer's uniform. The eagle insignia of a Colonel was squared away neatly on his lapel. His short hair was graying, a sign of his life in the officer corps of the military- constant stress and constant demands. His face, though- his face seemed familiar… but he couldn't quite tell why.

"Ilius Shepherd," the man said, and it all came back to him. He'd heard about this one, and he hadn't liked one word of it.

"Ackerson," Shepherd gasped.

"So formal, Shepherd," Ackerson replied, a dangerous smile appearing on his face. "Call me James."

Shepherd gulped.


	18. Chapter 17: Shadows on the Horizon

Author's Note: This chapter is largely minor technical stuff and a bunch of mind-probing I just had to get out there to clear my head. Note that I have my misgivings and might revisit this one later to revise it. Anyway, read, review, and (most importantly) enjoy.

* * *

**CHAPTER 17**

**2147 HOURS, 13 APRIL 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

Kurt-051 read through the record one more time. Nine operations, and Alpha Company had exceeded all projections for their success. Nine live combat missions and his people were still alive. In spite of all he'd done to help them- the stricter instruction regimens, the emphasis on stealth in their SPI armor, the team cohesion exercises- he could not help breathing a sigh of relief. He'd expected a disaster, and he'd been told up front by Colonel Ackerson that their missions were rated with the lowest survival probabilities, so hearing that they had survived after this long…

Kurt smiled to himself. His training had readied them for this. Despite his misgivings that they might have been inadequate, his Spartans had pulled through. They had proved that nagging feeling at the back of his head wrong. And for once, Kurt was glad that his feelings had not come to fruition.

He glanced at the mission statement sent to him by his intelligence sources in ONI's NavSpecWar liaison office. The Far-Gone Colony platforms. A zero-gee operation. Alpha Company had done relatively little zero-gee training compared to extensive ground-ops instruction they'd received, but Mendez, as always, had made it count. Kurt thought back to the T-pack training sessions and the boarding training that Alpha Company had received on board the UNSC _Iron Star_, a derelict vessel which had an artificial gravity system damaged beyond repair, and thus was perfect for low-orbit training. On those occasions, not only had Alpha always accomplished their objective, but Kurt had had to rotate the Marines they were competing against after several trials to avoid further recklessness-induced damage to the only zero-gee facility Kurt had access too. In the end, the training had to be put off indefinitely because despite Kurt's precautions, _Iron_ _Star _continued to sustain further damage from the training, and finally arrived at the point that she resembled nothing so much as a titanium skeleton.

At any rate, Alpha Company was ready, Kurt was certain of that. Their service record didn't lie- they would accomplish the mission they were given.

Kurt set aside the assignment record and turned to a set of documents that, he had to admit, interested him far more. He hadn't looked at this particular record in over four and a half years- this one, the one hundred sixteen that he'd looked at before it, or the one hundred eighty three he had determined he would look at when he was done with this one. They were the blood tests and genetic screening protocols for Alpha Company.

Kurt frowned as he read the document. His Spartan-IIIs were not the genetic cream of the crop, as he and his fellow Spartan-IIs had been. But there were certain markers that were required- without these, it was a virtual guarantee for failure in the augmentation processes. So Spartan-IIIs could not be the cream of the crop, but they were slightly beyond most of humanity in strictly genetic terms.

But Kurt, as he had many times in the past, had had a hunch- no, more of a feeling- about some of his candidates. Alpha's genetic protocols had been an absolute minimum to avoid failure. But what of those that exceeded that criterion, who had a more specific genetic typeset?

What of those that Dr. Halsey would have chosen herself?

So he'd pulled up the files, scanned the records, and found one almost immediately. Shannon-A017 had been an eighty-six percent match for the original screening protocols, but now, with the improved augmentation programs, she was completely within the safety limits. But she had been killed on Mamore, and despite the program's absolute secrecy, had been listed as Missing in Action anyway, within the black ops files of ONI's Section Three records. Directive 930 was still in play, even if the Spartans it referred to did not technically exist. Kurt shook his head- now was not the time to reminisce.

Within a few minutes, he pulled up three files for reference, and compared them to a fourth one on his desk. Carter-A259, Emile-A239 and Jun-A266 had been exceedingly well-fitted to the search- each one matched over nine-tenths of the markers in Dr. Halsey's Spartan-II selections. Kurt hadn't expected so many to fit the mold, but he felt he had to be absolutely sure. So here he was, checking the records again, and using the files on these three as a reference for any others that might remotely fit what he was looking for. He'd also pulled the three of them from active duty with their teams, using every bit of pull he had as head of the Spartan-III program, and borrowing some from Ackerson. That had barely been enough.

After several minutes, Kurt sighed, slightly disappointed, but not at all surprised. Out of Wolf Pack, Lion, Mako and Vulture, not a single member of those fire teams had more than forty percent of the genetic markers. He and the other Spartan-II candidates represented a tiny portion of humanity's gene pool; it would have been unreasonable to expect every one of his Spartan-IIIs to match the markers. Kurt pulled out the file for Falcon, not expecting any surprises. His eyes narrowed as he scanned through the gene lists and indicators, and he found nothing out of the ordinary.

His eyes narrowed further, though, when he saw the genetic screenings for Leon-A176. He was an eighty-four percent match.

He immediately made a note to pull Leon from active duty at the first possible opportunity. Ackerson had insisted that the Spartan-IIIs be made to do as much as they could with far less than the original Spartan-IIs. Kurt, despite what he said to the Colonel's face, did not necessarily agree. The Spartan-IIIs were his people- they were like him in a great many ways. But the five he had found so far- they were like him in every way save one. And he would correct that one. Carter, Emile, Jun, and now Leon- they had been operating in equipment that, while effective, essentially limited them. Kurt wanted to give them the best chance at survival, and that was beyond anything SPI armor could do for them.

Kurt paused, reconsidering. The damage that would be done- that was already done- by the splitting of the teams, would leave a mark. In the first few months after his induction into the Spartan-III program, he'd done everything he could to find out about the team that had accompanied him on the mission- on the _staged_ mission to Station Delphi. He'd reviewed their psychiatric evaluations- he'd read the files, seen the videos, heard the debriefings. Kelly and Fred had remained rock-solid- they had not let out a single obvious sign of distress in the video. A single _obvious_ sign.

But Kurt knew better. He knew, because he'd been through it himself. He thought back to his old team- Green Team. William. Sheila. Isaac. Neither he nor they had dared say anything about his transfer to Blue Team, but Kurt had trained and fought with them. He knew them. And having to leave them went against every instinct he had. But he'd done it. And now he'd been taken from Blue Team. After going through this twice- after experiencing it firsthand- after _knowing_ what it was like- could he ask this of his own Spartans?

Kurt shook his head. Like it or not, he'd already done it for three of his Spartans. And- like it or not, it was for the best. Despite all he'd done for them, there was one crucial truth. A single Spartan-III in Semi-Powered Infiltration armor would never be a match for a Spartan-II in MJOLNIR armor. It would take a fire team of his Spartans to parallel one of him. By doing this, he was multiplying their combat effectiveness. The four of them, originally a numerical match for one Spartan-II, would form the equivalent of a Spartan-II fire team, which would make them four to five times more combat-effective as a whole.

Technically, he knew he was right. But he hated the reasoning. He was tearing the teams apart- he was destroying the fabric that he and Chief Mendez had worked for three years to build. War was not simply a numbers game. When he and the other Spartan-IIs were being trained, Chief Mendez had drilled that fact into them. Terrain, tactics, morale, motivation- any one or more of those factors could potentially tip the scales in any fight more than any influx of numbers. Spartans were soldiers, first and foremost- they could work in a team, whether or not they were familiar with the members or not. But the fire teams- they were family for most of his Spartan-IIIs, just as Green Team, and later Blue Team, had been family to him. In the years he had fought against the Covenant, he had befriended a number of Marines, a fact that Blue Team's leader, John, had expressed unease about on occasion. One of the Marines had expressed his opinion on the matter, saying, "The best soldiers aren't colleagues- they're brothers." Kurt had never seen anything to disprove that statement.

Kurt sighed in exasperation. He wasn't sure of anything here. The MJOLNIR would help the Spartans he gave them to- of that there was no question. But there _was_ a question to be asked. Would the trade-off be worth it? Kurt clenched his fist- he'd already made that decision, hadn't he? He'd pulled Carter, Emile and Jun from duty with their fire teams already. Why was he having so much trouble pulling Leon?

Kurt stood up and crossed the room, to the room-height locker that contained his MJOLNIR armor. He didn't open the door- he knew what was on the other side. He also knew that given his way, every one of Alpha Company's Spartans would receive MJOLNIR armor, as well as the fact that it would never happen. Kurt finally exhaled- he couldn't give it to all of them, but he would do what he could for those who the extra technology would help. He prepared a message to his contact in ONI on his datapad, instructing him to pull Leon-A176 as soon as he could.

That done, Kurt sat back down, but bit his lip. If what he was doing was right for the four Spartans, why did he have a strange feeling about this? He exhaled lightly- in 2531, he'd had a feeling during an operation on Delta Tauri with Blue Team, which had lead to his anticipating an ambush by rebel troops on Blue Team. He'd proceeded to counter the ambush and free four of his fellow Spartans.

As Kurt scrutinized the paperwork on his desk, the exact same feeling that he'd felt six years ago on that operation came to the back of his mind to nag him. It wasn't a conscious acknowledgement of something that had gone wrong- nothing concrete. As he'd told John all those years ago, it was 'just a feeling'.

Kurt hoped with every bit of conviction he could muster that the feeling was wrong. It was small comfort.

* * *

**1922 HOURS, 21 APRIL 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**DRY DOCK OVER PLANET REACH, EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM**

**ON BOARD CARRIER UNSC **_**SALAMIS**_

Cole blinked, and the world sprang into focus. The sun known as Epsilon Eridani blazed bright gold, forcing him to shield his eyes against its brilliance. Cole wasn't entirely sure _why_ he'd wanted to test his vision by looking at the sun, but he was sure that his retinas had regained their sensitivity. He'd been lucky enough to avoid sustaining damage to the point where flash-cloning his eyes would be necessary, but the recovery had been boring all the same.

The door behind him _hissed_ open, and Naomi walked in. Cole noted a slight stiffness in her movements, a certain awkwardness apparent in her normally fluid gait. He turned from the observatory's display and gave her his full attention.

"How are you?" he asked, being careful not to sound too concerned- Naomi did not appreciate coddling. Cole had only needed one lesson in that, and a scar lined his bottom jaw in case he ever forgot.

Naomi, far from being irked, smiled. "Healing," she replied. "That's the last time I let someone else shoot me in the leg- I'll just do it myself in future."

Cole smiled back, glad that Naomi had recovered enough to regain a semblance of humor- for the first week after their operation on the Far-Gone Colony platforms, she had been so foul-tempered, even her teammates had reservations about approaching her. The loss of mobility was only one part of it, Cole had later found out. It was the exact same thing about her being coddled- the feeling she got, conveyed by others, that she was helpless on her own. And being confined to a bed on the _Salamis_' infirmary had brought that feeling into full force.

"So, still quick as a cat?" Cole asked.

"I should hope not," another voice said, this one also female. Eve walked in, grinning widely. "I thought you were hovering around cheetah- did you really drop that far?"

Naomi glanced at her fellow Spartan, her smile gone. In its place was a slightly doubtful expression. Eve's flippancy was never an easy thing to figure out, and Cole could practically see the pulses in Naomi's brain as she analyzed Eve's remark.

The door slid open again, and along with its distinct _hiss_ was the sound of a _clink_- metal on metal. Leon limped in, and he was not quite as graceful as Naomi had been in walking with the healing injury- or in Leon's case, walking with his new leg. His right leg had been broken in seven places, two of the muscles in his thigh he received sever lacerations, his Achilles tendon had been pulled, and to top it off, Leon had broken two ribs and collapsed a lung, all courtesy of a slightly overenthusiastic Elite Major he'd fought on the Far-Gone Colony Platforms operation. And despite his injuries, not only had Leon managed to defeat his opponent, but he'd kept up with the rest of Alpha Company as they wiped the platform's NAV database and placed tactical nukes on several Covenant destroyers, disrupting the Covenant battle group invading the system for long enough for the harassed and battered UNSC 9th Fleet to regroup and destroy the remaining enemy ships with HORNET nuclear mines.

But their victory in preventing the Covenant from discovering the Inner Colonies had cost them. The 9th Fleet was barely at half strength at the end of two days, and Alpha Company had lost nineteen more members, bringing the already-slipping total down to two hundred and ten Spartan-IIIs. Cole sighed- the drain was small, considering the overall size of Alpha Company, but it was constant. After a few more battles, there wouldn't be much of Alpha Company left. He thought back to Mamore. Alpha Company's losses there had been largest overall for a single operation- twenty-three dead, all from fighting Insurrectionists. He quickly redirected his train of thought- his team's mission had ended in a double cross, and Team Piranha had lost two members in the fighting. He would rather their mark had died a hundred times over than lose a single Spartan.

And then there had been the mysterious disappearances of Carter, Jun and Emile. No-one knew for sure what had happened to them, but rumors amongst the Spartans suggested that a special ONI project was being put in place for them. Cole wasn't entirely surprised- Carter was an efficient team leader, and Jun and Emile were both competent Spartans. But it struck him as strange that three Spartans from different teams had been picked, rather than one fully-assembled team. All the same, he did not think much about it. Alpha Company was at seventy percent strength- that was all that mattered.

That- and something else.

"So," Cole asked, as nonchalantly as he could, "how is everyone else?"

Eve grinned at him, but Naomi shook her head and Leon sighed, his hand over his face.

"She's a mess, Cole," Naomi said at length. "Reese dying really shook her. It doesn't help that she cross-trained as a medic. If she needs anyone right now, it's her team."

Cole shot Naomi a withering look, and then set his weight back against the bulkhead of the ship. He had meant to go and see if he could find Pam, but Naomi had a point. While he and the rest of Falcon had lost a teammate as well, they hadn't known Reese like they had known Tyler, and Raven needed some time to come to grips with the loss. Alpha Company's physical healing after the Far-Gone operation was almost complete. The emotional healing would take a little while longer.

Cole gazed back out towards space, into the blinding depths of Epsilon Eridani. Then suddenly, three words from months ago came back to him.

_Go for it._

He blinked. All that time- how had Tyler- how had he _known_?

Eve peered at him. "I think he needs to go back to the infirmary," she said jokingly. "Solar radiation went right to his head- no wonder he's staring so hard at the sun."

Cole shook his head and took a moment to blink the purple spots out of his vision. "Sorry," he told them. "I know what you're getting at, Naomi. I guess nobody would have bothered us that soon after Tyler died, so- yeah, I get it."

Leon nodded solemnly, and Naomi followed suit, although neither seemed entirely convinced. Cole looked away, not sure if he cared. Too much was uncertain now. But he understood Tyler's meaning now. It had, for some reason, taken him over half a year, but he got it. He'd let things settle down first, though, and wait until next time.

_If there is a next time,_ a small voice at the back of his mind said. Cole pushed that voice to the back of his head. He hadn't heard from it in a long time- he didn't need to start hearing it now.

* * *

**0000 HOURS, 16 JUNE 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**NARROW BAND POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMISSION; ORIGIN: UNKNOWN; TERMINATION: UNKNOWN**

_//FILE ACCESS GRANTED/ WORM-PROTOCOL FIREWALL ACTIVE/ AUTOMATIC DELETION SEQUENCE: ACTIVE_

_PLNB TRANSMISSION: JK360-ATT_

_ENCRYPTION CODE: ALPHA_

_PUBLIC KEY: N/A_

_FROM: CODE NAME ALCHEMIST_

_TO: CODE NAME SENTRY_

_SUBJECT: SITUATIONAL REPORT_

_CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY, CODE-WORD __CLASSIFIED__, TOP SECRET (SECTION THREE X-RAY DIRECTIVE)_

_/FILE-EXTRACTION COMPLETE/_

_/STARTING FILE 1 OF 1/_

_Alpha has worked well so far. Ten operations and they maintain a per-op casualty rate of less than ten percent- most Marine NCOs would kill for such units._

_But we're getting off-track here. The purpose of this incarnation of Sierra was to give us a chance to win, not make us better at holding the Covenant up. As such, everything Alpha has been doing can be seen as a warm up- a very serious, very deadly warm up, but a warm up all the same._

_You heard about New Harmony. You heard about what happened on UNSC Razor's Edge- the telemetry probe, the assisted wake travel. Speaking of which, please find attached a non-destructing file regarding orders on Razor's Edge and her crew. The order for their court-martials on the charge of desertion under fire has been rescinded- from their mission logs and the data Section Three has received, it's fairly obvious that they did anything but run._

_But I digress- they found something. Seventeen light-years from the OB, and eighty light-years as the crow flies from Reach. Translation- within striking distance for a long-range covert op. Thus, find also attached a non-destructing order for the _Dawn Under Heaven_ to deliver Alpha Company to the embedded coordinates. It's in the Gamma Sirius system- we never bothered to explore that region thanks to lack of habitable planetary bodies. Figures that it would come back to bite us._

_Both attached orders have verification signatures from Colonel Ackerson, Vice Admiral Parangosky and Captain Gibson, so command authority shouldn't be a problem. See it done._

_/END FILE 1 OF 1/_

_/DELETION COMPLETE/_

* * *

Concluding note: After seeing a particular review on this, this has to be made crystal clear- there will be NO mention of Catherine-B320 or Spartan-B312 from Halo:Reach. They are from Beta Company, and they have their own story. This is Alpha Company.


	19. Chapter 18: Alea Iacta Est

Author's note: Sorry once again that this is a split chapter- this'll probably be the last split for a while. The next few should all be in one piece. As ever, enjoy.**

* * *

******

CHAPTER 18

**0629 HOURS, 10 JULY 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**HIGH ORBIT OVER PLANET REACH, EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM**

**ON BOARD CRUISER UNSC **_**DAWN UNDER HEAVEN**_

Cole stepped into the elevator, feeling the slight _rush_ of air as the door slid open, and then feeling it again as the doors slid shut. Small yellow lights pulsed on the inside of the elevator's control console as the floor indicators lit up, taking him to what Falcon had jokingly dubbed his second home. He'd paid a visit to the crew observatory every time he'd come out of cryo-sleep, and if he couldn't fit in a visit before being dropped into combat, then he made sure that he went up after they returned. After their operation at the Far-Gone Colony platforms, he'd limped up while still recovering from cracked ribs and a dislocated ankle. It had been painful- but it was worth it, just to look at the stars.

Once upon a time, he'd also come up just to get away from the relative bustle that Alpha Company provided. But more recently- _well_, Cole thought with a small smile, _the company's worth the visit too_.

He made his way to the door of the observatory, which slid open before he could thumb the switch. Cole blinked in surprise as Karen, Neil and Audrey appeared in the doorway. He moved to one side as they passed. While Cole could have sworn that Neil had grinned at him as he moved past, he took no note of it. Everything else could wait.

_Go for it_.

The words streaked through Cole's mind, bolts of lightning coursing along a preset path and almost- _almost_- striking their mark. Cole paused for just an instant halfway through the door, and bit his lip. _Tyler_, he thought. But then the moment was over, and he moved through without another sound.

A small figure with dark hair sat on one of the benches, gazing, transfixed, at the stars. _Well of course it's dark_, a snide voice in his head murmured,_ there are no lights_. Cole blinked. '_Really? NOW?'_ his conscious mind shot back. As Cole moved forward, he could have sworn he heard the snide voice apologize. But he wasn't sure- and he didn't care, one way or another.

"Hey," he said, stopping dead as he took stock of just how soft his voice had been. He cleared his throat- quietly.

"Hey," he said again. Pam did not look away from the ceiling. Cole sat, breathing as deeply and as silently as he could while his heart hammered away. During their training on Onyx, he'd read that the members of certain ancient sects had learned to control their bodies to abnormal extents, including raising or lowering their body temperatures or even slowing their metabolisms so far as to be able to effectively put themselves in stasis. And he couldn't even keep his pulse down. Cole sighed, which seemed to snap Pam from stargazing.

"Are you all right?" Cole asked, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. He'd remembered the early days after Tyler's death on New Constantinople, when any moment that wasn't silent was a cause either for irritation or simply leaving for somewhere that was. He gave him pause to see the other members of Alpha Company so affected when their teammates died. But for some reason, seeing Pam like this- he couldn't explain it… but he knew for sure thqt it bothered him more than normal.

"Just- thinking." Cole turned, his eyebrows raised. "What about?" he asked cautiously, after a pause.

"Reese," she started, and ice flooded Cole's gut. "Just- I see him, Cole. Just- laying there. And that Elite- just _laughing_ at him…"

Images flashed through Cole's mind. But they weren't the metal and polymer of a UNSC COM platform. They were sand and fire. New Constantinople. He saw it again. Tyler's lightning-fast spin, halted by a blade through his lung. Then Tyler had just... collapsed- like a wet towel.

More mirages flashed, unbidden, through his head. Tyler, lying limp aboard the _Calypso_, Biofoam covering his chest, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Tyler falling like a rag doll as Cole left him on a bed in _Normandy_'s infirmary to fetch an orderly. The rigid, mask-like face of the Petty Officer who'd told him that his friend of four years had died.

Cole lapsed back into the present, breathing harshly- and audibly. He glanced to his side. Pam looked at him, her dark eyes wide, and her mouth smaller than he'd ever seen it.

"You miss him, don't you?"

Cole nodded. "And you miss Reese," he replied. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah. And- I was thinking…" As she said this, Cole felt a slight pressure on his hand. He glanced down, and with a hastily suppressed gasp, saw hers rested on it.

Eyes wide, he looked up. She was smiling.

"Life's too short," she said simply. The next two or three seconds were a blur for him, but when he regained his grip on reality, he found himself short of breath and with a strange expression on his face. He was aware of all his muscles, but he couldn't quite discern their arrangement. He settled for words- or tried to.

"But- but- when- how-" he stopped, and cleared his head.

"So, what… what do we-" but before he could say anything more, the captain's voice boomed through SHIPCOM. Cole cursed under his breath.

"Attention, all personnel- this is the Captain speaking. The ship will now transition to Slipspace. All nonessential personnel make your way to your cryopods immediately- repeat, all nonessential personnel make your way to your cryopods immediately."

Cole looked at Pam, and tried to say as much as he could without speaking- a boulder seemed to have jammed in his throat.

"This op," she replied. "Just one more. Then… we'll see what happens." And with that, she left.

Cole stood stock-still for several more seconds. Then he shook his head in disbelief.

"What just happened…?" he asked of the room.

_Well,_ said a certain voice at the back of his mind. _This should get interesting…_

_Shut up_, Cole thought.

* * *

**DATE/TIME UNKNOWN (ESTIMATED TIMESTAMP: 0630 HOURS, 27 JULY 2537)**

**SLIPSPACE, EN ROUTE TO GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**ON BOARD CRUISER UNSC **_**DAWN UNDER HEAVEN**_

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 1**

Utter blackness. On every viewscreen. That's all there was. That's all there would ever be in Slipspace, Captain Jane Trask thought to herself. Just a starless, black expanse.

All was calm on the bridge, mirroring the seemingly ceaseless tranquility of Slipspace just outside the ship. She examined their faces. Focus. Dedication. Anticipation. That was all that their faces showed. None of them showed even an inkling of the trepidation she was feeling inside. She paused- was _she_ showing any of her anxiety?

For their sakes, she hoped not. She was responsible for over a thousand lives aboard UNSC _Dawn Under Heaven_, and if even one of them died today, she wasn't sure how she would be able to forgive herself. This was a covert insertion into a system without a Covenant fleet presence- how could _any_ of the crew die?

Then again, why else would ONI send a 40-year old _Halcyon_ cruiser into enemy space? She nodded, satisfied. No-one on the ship was going to die.

None of the crew, anyway. She'd seen the 'weapons package' that ONI wanted her to deliver onto that asteroid. Over 200 soldiers, most of which looked to be just entering their teens, had been slated for insertion into enemy territory for a high-priority mission. Upon seeing them, she'd immediately felt a measure of curiosity, but had decided not to indulge it. ONI's secrecy was legendary- and pretty much impenetrable. But somehow- she knew, as soon as she saw them that not all of them would be returning to the ship.

She cleared her throat. "Talk to me," she called out to the crew.

"ETA three minutes to Gamma Sirius SJP, sir," her XO reported. Commander Ethan Hawke was a hard-nosed, by-the-book, no-nonsense officer, with the appearance to go with it; sporting nondescript short brown hair, similarly colored and perpetually stern eyes and an ambiguous skin tone. He could recite half the drills and procedures in the Officer's Handbook off by heart, and was loath to deviate from protocol, even during the rare occasion that FLEETCOM or ONI deemed it acceptable due to 'extreme circumstances'. Almost unsurprisingly, he'd graduated twelfth in his class- sometimes being an officer meant bending the rules a little.

Captain Trask turned to a holographic projector located on one of the panels. "Status?" she asked, and a three-dimensional image resolved into being. It was a human male of average proportions, sporting a thin black beard and wearing a uniformly dark-blue version of the UNSC officer's uniform.

"Lieutenant Michaels reports that engines are ready for subluminal maneuvering. Hull integrity is maximal, and the Slipstream has not managed to produce a course deviation- it seems that the intelligence provided to us was correct- for once."

"Arcturus…" Trask growled. "Leave Lycurgus out of this. Just because you two were produced from flash-clones of the same brain-"

"Captain," the AI replied, "this argument is both old and superfluous. Neither of us gains anything from it."

"And we don't gain anything from your attitude, either," Trask snapped. "See what you can do about waking our passengers up- we're almost there."

Arcturus bowed, and his image dissolved.

Trask sighed in exasperation. Effective though Arcturus was, he got on her nerves. Coupled to that was the fact that Arcturus had maintained a rivalry of sorts with his 'brother', Lycurgus. And given that the prowler _Razor's Edge_ and the cruiser _Dawn Under Heaven_ were both assigned to the same battle group, she'd had to put up with his constantly disparaging remarks for two years now. The ability to perform trillions of calculations in an instant was something she liked very much about the AI. The more human aspects of his programming were things she could live without.

She turned back to her bridge crew. "What's the status on NAV?" She asked.

"No sensor pings in the Slipstream, sir," Hawke replied immediately. He continued, "But we'll have to drop out of Slipspace to get a real-space picture. Until we drop out, we're as good as blind." There was no pessimism in his voice- only fact. Nothing ever seemed to throw Hawke, and more often than not, he was the crew's emotional anchor, tempering their occasional euphoria or complacency with realism, and blunting their all-too-common depression or despondency with hope. The way he put things, one would have thought that the UNSC and Covenant were roughly even.

Too bad that didn't make her feel any better about it.

Arcturus came up on his projector panel. "We have arrived at the system's Superior Jump Point, sir. Dropping from the Slipstream in three… two… one…"

Nothing happened.

Arcturus frowned, and a claw grabbed at Captain Trask's stomach from within. If there was a problem that even the AI couldn't fix, there was next to nothing she could do.

Arturus pulsed blue-green for an instant, before assuming a final yellow hue. His virtual face was screwed up in concentration.

"Running diagnostic… one of the Shaw-Fujikawa engine's particle accelerators is undercharged, sir. There's a lot of interference from the reactors down there… I can't get a fix on the exact problem. I've alerted Lieutenant Michaels, and he's working on it. Hopefully he'll be able to see the problem more clearly."

"We need to drop from the Slipstream now," Hawke told the AI quickly and sternly. "If we continue, we'll be out-system and have to make a short-range precision jump, and that's almost impossible for our ships."

"If we drop out now," Arcturus replied, "the rupture will be uneven, and we'd risk tearing the ship in two."

Hawke inhaled deeply, and then exhaled briefly. Trask suppressed a smile. Most other officers would have indulged themselves with a mild under-the-breath expletive, but not her executive officer. But she understood his frustration. He'd also been her XO on board UNSC _Hydra_, a _Marathon_-class cruiser. Compared to the _Marathon_s, the _Halcyon_s were undergunned, underpowered and underprotected. He'd been used to the higher standards of the more advanced ships.

"We should slow the ship," Hawke said, not missing a beat. "The SFTE can't accelerate our transition if we're not moving. We can kill the sublight thrusters, and restart them once the Slipspace engine's been repaired."

Trask turned to Arcturus. "Would it work?"

"Technically speaking, we _aren't_ moving," Arcturus said, "Motion, distance, velocity, acceleration… none of those translate when you apply them to Slipspace physics. But…" The AI tapped a finger against its chin, "the commander makes an interesting point… calculations indicate a sixty-two-point-four-five percent chance of success, assuming his premise is right. If it's wrong, then the number is zero."

"And…?" Captain Trask asked.

Arcturus sighed. "I don't know. No UNSC ship has ever attempted that tactic- or if one has, it's never survived to tell the story."

Trask grimaced, both at the painful limits of the UNSC's technology and the sheer age of _Dawn Under Heaven_. There as almost no way that this would happen to a new, better-maintained ship.

Suddenly, Arcturus flashed through a dozen multi-colored forms before resuming his normal blue color. At the same time, SHIPCOM crackled to life. "Actual- Actual, are you there? This is Engineering."

Captain pushed the 'Speak' button on the armrest of her chair. "Talk to me, Lieutenant. What's going on?"

"Problem's fixed, sir," Michaels responded. Relief was evident in the engineer's voice. "One of the capacitors was polarized, and fail-safes kicked in and shut the sucker down. The plate's been replaced- it's working again."

"All right, Lieutenant. Good job." She looked up, and saw Hawke looking at her, a sour expression on his face. She couldn't help but smile, and put a hand on the Commander's shoulder, all the while trying to keep the grin from becoming a laugh.

"Ethan, you are _not_ giving him a disciplinary notice."

"There is no call for that kind of language-"

"He just saved us from drifting through the Slipstream for the next goodness-knows how many years. I think it's permissible to cut him some slack once, Commander."

Hawke bristled at the response, but did not comment. Instead, he snapped off a crisp salute. "Yes, sir."

Trask nodded, and turned to the AI. "Arcturus, can you correct our course?"

"Can Lycurgus fail at factoring a polydimensional-"

"_Arcturus!_"

"Correcting course now, sir."

Trask sighed in exasperation. _Computers_, she thought to herself. She hadn't used a keyboard since before she became an officer, and it was a bit annoying to know that she would probably never again operate a program that didn't talk back to her.

"We're back on course…" Arcturus reported. "Leaving Slipspace in three… two… one…"

A white flash appeared instantaneously on all viewscreens, replaced by a velvet expanse, twinkling with millions of tiny silver dots. Captain Trask exhaled audibly. It was good to be back. Granted, they were deep inside enemy space in an underpowered ship that had jettisoned her nuclear armament for the sake of stealth, but still… There was something inexpressibly comforting about being in 'real' space.

One star shone brighter than all the others. 2314 Gamma Sirius burned a brilliant orange-yellow, giving every reflective surface in the system the appearance of being on fire. Thousands of small objects circled the star. Three were titanic- planets, none of them habitable. All the others, though, were comparatively tiny, and orbited closer to the star than any of the planets. _And one of them's a Covie jackpot_, Trask thought. The problem, though…

"Which one?" she murmured.

Commander Hawke was also peering at the viewscreens. "We should run a scan- check for infra-red output. That should tell us the location of the foundries."  
Trask shook her head. "We're too close- there's going to be too much background noise from the star. Everything's going to look hot…"

She turned to Arcturus. "Can you run a UV scan this close to the sun?"

The AI bit his virtual lip. This worried Task more than a little- it took quite a bit to unnerve an artificial intelligence.

"I could," Arcturus replied at length, "if the star is old enough, then we shouldn't get so much interference. But the probes are sensitive- if our estimates of this star's age are off, even by several million years or so, we could completely fry the scanning instruments."

The captain sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose briefly to hide her frown. She'd never heard Arcturus so hesitant. _Maybe he knows the stakes_, she thought, and she paused for an instant longer, considering the stakes herself. This was an _attack_ mission. A chance to push the Covenant back. If it was successful, humanity might have half a chance. If not, then it was going to be a long, slow fight as the UNSC's planets were plucked from it one by one.

She made up her mind.

"Arcturus- how many of those asteroids are large enough to maintain a significant grav field?"

Arcturus blinked. "Seven, sir."

"All right- run a scan on those seven, and check for IR- and UV-frequency spikes."

The AI nodded his assent. "Done. One match- it's the only one with an ultraviolet reading above background levels. Official name: 2314 Gamma Sirius K7-49. A rocky little slice of heaven."

"Save it, Arcturus," Commander Hawke said.

"Take us in," Captain Trask sighed.

"Answering new heading, ahead full."

The asteroids grew from specks against the consuming brightness to two-centimeter silhouettes. One, however, wasn't completely dark. Tiny points of red and yellow dotted one particular asteroid, connected by minute orange lines.

Eyes widened across the bridge. "Zoom in and boost resolution," Trask ordered.

The image grew. The tiny threads grew into orange ribbons, and the pinpricks of yellow light grew into a multitude of glowing eyes, churning and roiling with heat. Obscuring some of the terrain, though, were at least a dozen bulbous silhouettes, all of which looked incomplete in one way or another. The image of a school of fish flashed through Captain Trask's mind. Despite the fact that the ships weren't combat-ready or even finished, a small droplet of sweat lurched slowly down Captain Trask's face. When she looked around, she saw a rare event. Every face on _Dawn Under Heaven_'s bridge, even Arcturus', stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the asteroid, and the ships in orbit around it.

"They _built_ all that?" Hawke spluttered.

"You saw the briefing…" Trask replied, a little dazed.

"It's one thing seeing a hologram… but this…" Much as she wanted to berate her XO's lapse in composure, Trask understood what Commander Hawke meant. She cleared her throat.

"Take us into high orbit, and prepare to drop weapons package Sierra."

"Aye, sir."

As the ship moved slowly towards the asteroid, numbers and symbols scrolled furiously up and down Arcturus' avatar. He turned to Trask.

"Optimal drop points calculated, sir. If we drop from one of these locations," a TACMAP display appeared on one of the viewscreens, complete with a green hexagonal grid and several red hexes, "then we have a ninety-eight percent chance of avoiding fatalities from collisions in mid-air… or from falling into the foundries."

Trask grimaced.

Commander Hawke peered at the viewscreen. "Is this a joke?" he demanded angrily of the AI, "All of these airspace locations are occupied by either a construction platform or ship!"

"The Covenant are unimaginative, but not stupid, Commander," Arcturus replied, clearly miffed. "They have obviously decided on that pattern to keep their airspace clear and avoid collisions. I can't help it if they make that decision."

Trask shot a glare at her executive officer. This wasn't going to work if the bridge crew was just going to bicker all day. "Commander, go to Weapons One and get me firing solutions for our MAC and Archer missiles."

"Yes sir," Hawke replied curtly, and walked away, shooting Arcturus as very dirty look as he left.

Trask sighed in exasperation. "Arcturus… which set of coordinates places Package Sierra in a central location?"

The AI blinked, numbers flashing through his eyes. "There," he said, and one red hex on the TACMAP display flashed white. "There is also an incomplete Covenant ship in orbit over that location- a frigate, if size tells us anything. Energy readings indicate no shields."

"Good," Captain Trask replied, "I've always hated those. Get the coordinates of that ship to Weapons One ASAP."

"Done."

The bridge was virtually silent for several heart-stopping seconds.

"Firing solution calculated," Commander Hawke reported, walking back from the Weapons station, "and the magnetic accelerator cannon is spinning up; charge is at eighteen percent and mounting."

Captain Trask grinned in spite of herself. "Permission to speak freely granted, Ethan."

Hawke looked confused. "I didn't request it, sir."

"I know- you just looked like you had something to say."

At length, Hawke sighed. "_Hydra_ could launch two slugs in the time this bucket takes to fire one, sir. I don't know why Reach FLEETCOM even keeps these things."

"A lot of people wonder about that, Ethan. Feeling any better?"

"I've spoken my mind, sir."

"Cannon is fully charged," Arcturus reported. Captain Trask took a deep, calming breath.

"Fire."

It was over in under a second. The six-hundred ton slug ripped through the intervening space and impacted the frigate. True to Arcturus' report, there was no flash of light indicative of shields. There were several explosions as the shell tore through the interior decks. And then something- _something_- exploded. Captain Trask wasn't exactly sure _what_ that something was, but it had to be important- _that_ she could tell when more and more detonations began chaining through the frigate's innards, ripping it apart. With a final blast, the last hull segments were scattered, leaving only an expanding halo of metal and expanding clouds of gas and coolants.

"Confirmed hit," Arcturus said matter-of-factly, "and scans show no debris fragments large enough to affect the ship's course."

"Helm, take us in," Captain Trask ordered.

For several seconds, most of the people on the bridge watched silently as K7-49 grew larger and closer. Then-

"We're in position, sir, and the drop bay reports all pods ready to launch. We have a twenty-one second drop window."

Captain Trask nodded. "Let 'em go. And launch STARS probes into geostationary orbit."

"Yes, sir."

The viewscreens changed to feed from the ship's various external cameras. On one, several small round probes shot from a container, and with delicate puffs from small sets of thrusters, moved gently into orbit, seeming stationary from the view of the ship. The main viewscreen, though, showed over two hundred pods rocketing away from _Dawn Under Heaven_'s ventral launch bays. Trask tried very hard not to picture them as coffins.

"Not to state the obvious, but: pods and probes launched, sir," Arcturus said after several seconds of watching the spectacles on-screen. "We should move to the next phase."

"Good point, Arcturus. Ethan, you take command for the moment."

Commander Hawke turned to her, frowning. "Are you all right, Captain?"

"I feel a little tired, Commander, that's all."

Hawke nodded cleared his throat. "NAV One," he called, "plot an in-system jump to the edge of the system, and maneuver to orbit the outermost planet."

Once the navigational officers reported their affirmations of the order, the XO turned to Trask. "Maybe you should visit the infirmary, sir?"

Captain Trask shook her head. "It's nothing medical, Ethan… more of a gut feeling, that's all."

She glanced at the main viewscreen, straining to see the now-minuscule specks that were the _Dawn Under Heaven_'s drop pods.

"Just a feeling…" she repeated, mostly to herself.

* * *

Concluding note: For any detail hawks who didn't read carefully enough, Beta Company was inserted by the carrier _All Under Heaven_. Different ship.


	20. Chapter 19: Easy Does It

**CHAPTER 19**

**0701 HOURS, 27 JULY 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 1**

The door flew off Cole's pod with a loud _bang_. Cole took a second to stretch his joints before leaving the pod, grimacing as bolts of pain shot through his body. This asteroid was tiny- even a hard impact shouldn't have hurt him much at all. _Artificial gravity_, he mused.

Cole grabbed his MA5K and leapt out of his crashed, dented pod, sweeping the area. Seeing nothing, he consulted his TACMAP. The drop had scattered Alpha Company over a fairly large area, and Falcon was no exception- his nearest teammate, Leon, was four klicks away. The nearest _Spartan_, though…

Cole sprinted from his pod to the shadow of a nearby coolant tower. He sighed as he viewed the structure- only the Covenant could turn a building with such a ridiculously simple purpose into a showcase of their architecture. Instead of a long cylindrical structure like the UNSC- _or any sane builder_, he thought- would have built, the tower was bulbous at the bottom, with a mercifully simple middle, before mirroring the rounded shape of the bottom at the structure's apex.

Cole activated his SPI armor's camouflage function, blending almost seamlessly into the shadows. But, as he moved, the panels didn't reset automatically, retaining their previous setting for several seconds as Cole continued to move. Cole gritted his teeth and tried to slow his breathing. He'd heard that an upgrade to the SPI armor camouflage panels was in the pipeline- he would be sure to ask Lieutenant Ambrose about that. That was, if he could ever get in a call to Onyx.

Cole sprinted noiselessly through the shadows, past rows of coolant towers, before arriving at one that was different from the others. Around four meters up, there was a section where the metal had been compacted and then torn away. Clear coolant poured from the gash, forming a mist as the top of the liquid surface flash-boiled into the atmosphere. Cole's eyes weren't on the coolant, though. Judging by the compacted and ragged edges of the metal, Cole was fairly sure that an impact had damaged the side of the coolant tower. The open drop pod at its bottom removed any and all doubts. A shivering Spartan struggling in a pool of liquid nitrogen right next to the pod snapped him from his observation.

Tyler, lifeless on New Constantinople. Eve, collapsing under fire on Mamore. The images flashed through Cole's head. After seeing all of that, he couldn't let this happen again- teammate or not. He launched himself towards the pod, reaching the prone body in two seconds. His IFF reader clicked on, identifying the Spartan as Nolan-A286. New Constantinople came back to him, and the instinct doubled in force. He pulled Nolan onto his own back and ran out of the freezing liquid shower.

He flicked TEAMBIO on. Nolan's electrolyte levels were all out of balance, and his blood pressure was low- and still falling. Cole's eyes widened as he recognized the signals. Systemic shock from the sudden hard impact and then crawling into a liquid nitrogen bath. That Nolan had even survived this long was a miracle.

Cole lay Nolan down on the ground, and then proceeded to rifle through his pack, relenting when he found a medkit. Selecting two syringes, he released the pressure seals on Nolan's armguards and jabbed the needles into the exposed bicep, hoping the anti-shock and anti-hypothermia treatments would kick in quickly enough. Although his eyes were fixed on Nolan, he couldn't help but notice the seconds tick by on his mission timer.

After a minute, Nolan's blood pressure started to rise, along with his pulse. Another syringe went into Nolan's arm, this one carrying an electrolyte mixture. After a few more seconds, Nolan reached out to Cole's shoulder, and pulled himself up to sit.

"T-Thanks…" he said, disguising a momentary tremor. "That's the last time I drop in… Helljumpers can have their pods."

Cole smiled at the attempted humor. "All right, let's get you moving. You're not lying here for them to find."

Then Cole heard it- the light _pat-pat-pat_ of footsteps. Grunt footsteps.

"Go," Nolan urged. "Hide."

"I'm not leaving you here," Cole whispered. Then, he heard a _click_ originating from his thigh armor. Looking down, he saw his M6D pistol- in Nolan's hand.

"I am not letting _Grunts_ do me in," Nolan chuckled. "Trust me. Now _go_."

Cole nodded, and moved into the shadow of a fusion reactor which sat on the opposite side of the wide-open space from the coolant towers. His SPI armor's camo panels activated, and Cole sat and waited, motionless, for the Grunts. He watched Nolan carefully- his fellow Spartan had turned himself over, so he now lay prone with his right hand, which held Cole's sidearm, hidden beneath his body.

They came. Six of the short, squat aliens waddled into the open plaza. Predictably, they gave loud squeals of alarm at the sight of Nolan's pod, and another at his prone form. As they realized that the human wasn't moving, though, they calmed down, and inched closer to Nolan, who was so completely still that Cole felt it necessary to have TEAMBIO active on his heads-up display. He sighed, almost in relief, as he saw Nolan's steady pulse.

One of the Grunts seemed more confident than the others. With a confident declaration to its comrades, it ran up to Nolan's body and threw a kick at the visor. Its stumpy foot never made it. Nolan's right arm shot out like a bullet, intercepting the Grunt's punt, and in one fluid motion, Nolan stood up and whirled the Grunt around once, finally hurling it with one arm, back towards his crashed pod. The Grunt bounced almost half a meter off the ceramic-titanium surface once, and then landed with a dull _thump _on the ground, unmoving.

Amid shrieks of terror, the rest of the Grunts turned tail and started to run, but to no avail. Cole fired a slew of three-round bursts, dropping every one of the Grunts in less than two seconds. He rose and moved over towards Nolan, his hand extended.

"You could have left them to me, you know," Nolan said dryly, as he handed Cole's M6 back to him.

"And let you waste _my_ ammo? Yeah, right," Cole replied, chuckling.

Nolan sighed briefly before walking back over to his pod and yanking out a sopping wet MA5B. He pointed it in the air and fired a single shot. The flash of the shot mingled with vapor for a brief instant, before both disappeared into thin air. Seemingly satisfied, he strode over to Cole.

"NAV Point Alpha?" he asked simply. Cole nodded.

The two of them set off at a sprint, moving towards the rally point, one and a half kilometers away. Both of them ran with their SPI camo panels active, and although the patterns merged imperfectly against the moving background, they remained undetected throughout their entire run- a testament to the idiocy of Grunts, Cole thought to himself. As the duo ran, they were joined by various elements of several of the other fire teams, so that by the time they arrived at NAV Point Alpha, Cole and Nolan ran at the head of two dozen SPARTAN-IIIs.

From what Cole could see, most of the company had gathered here, and the rest, taking the hint, were moving from the other NAV points. Looking around with his IFF tracker on, he could not see any sign of Leon. The only other member of his team present was Naomi. Cole half-sprinted to her, out of instinct more than anything else. His eyes twitched once towards TEAMBIO- four sets of vital signs pulsed strongly in his field of view. Just to be sure, though-

"What's up?" he asked quietly.

"Busted a camo panel," Naomi replied, embers simmering in her voice. "Whatever egghead designed these, he'd better improve it before I shove it-"

"All okay then?"

"Yeah."

Cole didn't worry himself too much. Naomi could dodge pretty much anything, save the pink homing missiles that Covenant needler weapons fired. That a camouflage panel could be damaged by an impact, though… that was worrying.

While he and Naomi waited for Leon and Eve to show up, Cole reviewed the mission specs one more- one final- time. K7-49 was one titanic orbital shipyard around the star Gamma Sirius. At seventeen light-years away from UNSC space, it was quite literally on humanity's doorstep. Thirty large-scale plasma reactors installed on the surface melted metal from inside the asteroid's core and transported it to foundries, where the resulting alloys were shaped into components for Covenant ships, which- Cole looked up at this point- hung, half-completed, above Alpha Company now.

Alpha Company's mission was to shut down the reactors by any means necessary. They had two options- destroy the reactors wholesale, or disabling the various fusion cores that fed the reactors with plasma, which would cause the metal to cool and solidify inside the foundries. The SPARTAN-IIIs were equipped to undertake the second of the two options, although the briefing Alpha Company had received, courtesy of ONI, had been crystal clear in its instruction that the former was always on the table.

Several minutes later, a flood of green numbered blips flowed into the green lake that was Alpha Company's IFF tags on Cole's TACMAP. He looked up in time to see two figures in SPI armor hurrying towards them.

"Sitrep," Leon orderd.

"No injuries, and all gear secured," Naomi reported.

"All right then. Let's go."

Owing to a lack of magnetic directions on the asteroid, Falcon did not head 'North', as such, but for operating purposes, Section Three had designated one end of the potato-shaped asteroid as North and one as South. Within that context, Falcon was headed due north.

Teams Adder and Lion ran alongside them. Together, the three fire teams were supposed to secure a Covenant Jackal barracks in order to prevent the Covenant from organizing a counterattack once Alpha Company had set about destroying the reactors. The rest of the company had been given similar tasks for the first day of Operation: PROMETHEUS- killing the Elite overseers, and securing or destroying all weapons depots and communications relays. If this line of Covenant defenses was put out of action, ONI predicted it would be at least two days before a countering force of any sort could be mustered, leaving Alpha Company free to work.

As they ran, the thirteen Spartans had no compunctions about gunning down Grunt workers as they manned their stations at the foundries. For a quarter of an hour, the staccato rhythm of gunfire and pitiful yelps mixed with the hisses, roars and splashes of Covenant industry. By the end of that time, Falcon, Adder and Lion stood outside a nondescript grey-purple door. The portal stood at the entrance to a large, squat building, similar in architecture to, but shorter than, the factories around it. ONI's Stealth Tactical Aerial Reconaissance Satellites, or STARS for short, had identified this building as one of half a dozen barracks complexes on the asteroid's surface.

Nothing moved. Team Adder had long since neutralized the Jackal guards on the building's seven sentry towers with sniper fire. Falcon piled up on the door's left, while Lion stood on the right. Adder crouched, rifles poised, five meters directly in front. The doors were most likely locked- even though the UNSC had never penetrated this far into Covenant space, it just made sense. _More so for them,_ Cole thought to himself. _At least our troops don't eat each other_. How the Covenant could stand having Jackals in their army, he'd never know.

"Spoofer," came the order.

Cole nodded and crouched in front of the door, removing a small rectangular device from his pack. The TF-141 Electronic Access Key, nicknamed 'Spoofers' by UNSC military personnel, operated on electronically locked doors by rapidly generating and sending, or 'spoofing', randomly generated key sequences. The doors would unlock once the spoofer hit a correct combination. It was essentially an unbelievably fast alternative to manually punching in numbers on a keypad, and it worked where none existed.

Cole secured the Spoofer to the metallic door, and gently pushed the green button on the device's bottom. The tiny computer clicked and beeped for a full second before a minuscule set of bright green letters showed on a black screen: MATCH.

Cole frowned. A Spoofer could get through doors with hundred-thousand bit encryption keys in two seconds flat, and here it had only taken. Covenant computer security did not seem to be the best. Cole pushed that thought away to the back of his mind. He was a Spartan, not an AI.

He swept a grenade out just as the door opened, thumbed the primer, and rolled it in. Pausing only for an instant to note the presence of two bored-looking Jackals in the room, he backpedaled away from the door. A dull _thump_ rippled through the ground as the door slid shut.

"Go, go, go!"

In a bizarre reversal of the last second, Cole rushed through the rapidly-reopening door, rifle up. His twelve fellow Spartans barged into the room on his heels, ignoring the pair of mangled corpses on the floor.

The room was bare, save for a small weapons rack, which held three plasma pistols, a small wall-mounted communications unit, and two doors besides the one they had entered, positioned opposite from each other.

"Split up," Leon ordered. "Lion, take the right. Adder- set up here, make sure no-one leaves. Falcon's with me through the left door." A dozen-plus lights winked green on Cole's HUD, including his own.

At that moment, a Jackal wearing a particularly sour expression walked through the door on the right. Inhaling sharply was the last thing the alien did before it intercepted the larger part of one hundred armor-piercing rounds with its chest and head. The newly-created corpse flopped to the floor.

"Any chance they didn't hear that?" Eve quipped.

"Move!" was all Leon could say in response. As Team Lion moved through the door the now-dead Jackal had just come in, Falcon rocketed through the other.

Falcon opened fire as they sped, one after another, into a short hallway. A quartet of surprised Jackals squawked once in alarm before falling limply to the ground. Not pausing, the four Spartans sped on. The doors parted obligingly before them.

Team Falcon continued in this vein for the next two minutes, moving and clearing the left wing of the barracks complex. After the first several rooms, the Jackals had been aware of their presence and had attempted to resist, but without weapons, they simply attempted to rush the team, teeth bared, before being shot at point-blank range in the head. Cole had to hand it to the Jackals- they were ferocious, if not exactly tactical masterminds.

Falcon arrived at another door just as TEAMCOM crackled to life. "Falcon, come in. This is Lion."

Leon replief. "This is Falcon."

"We've secured this end- no sign of a weapons cache. We've found the Jackals' quarters though. Watch yourselves over there."

"Copy that. Falcon out."

Cole slowed his breathing. Suddenly finding out that he and his team were on one side of a door leading into a Covenant armory didn't do wonders for blood pressure. He checked his carbine, noting with some satisfaction that he had a full magazine. His acknowledgement light joined three others.

"Flash, frag, and pop. Got it?" Leon's voice was rock-steady as he removed an M90 Close Assault Weapon System- but Cole preferred to call it a shotgun- from the magnetic panel installed on the back of his armor. Cole took a flashbang grenade from his right thigh-plate and moved his thumb onto the primer. Eve and Leon moved to cover the door from the front, and Naomi, with a nod, spun a fragmentation grenade on her index finger.

Cole's mission timer clicked on. It read 00:05.

Cole took a breath, and waited four seconds. On the fifth, he and Naomi both stepped forward and sidearmed their grenades through the door, which had slid open. Cole's visor darkened and his external microphones cut out as a white flash filled the room, followed ever-so-slightly later by a shudder through the floor at Cole's feet. Falcon charged in.

The first two Jackals went down with rounds in their chest, and the next half-dozen took it as a cue to dive behind the weapon racks in the middle of the room.

Half a second later, three of the four remaining Jackals popped up with plasma pistols in their hands. Green bolts rushed past Falcon as Cole and his teammates dodged the counterattack. Several bursts of fire and a shotgun shell later, three bodies hit the floor, and a previously-concealed green glow became obvious. Cole dove at Leon a split second too late.

The emerald globe of plasma slammed into Leon's prosthetic leg. With a spark and a deafening _bang_, the mechanical limb shattered and Leon toppled over. Eve's BR-55 Battle Rifle _cracked_ three times in rapid succession, and the offending Jackal dropped, face down, onto the metal floor.

Cole and Naomi rushed to Leon's side as Eve policed the bodies. Naomi quickly inspected Leon's hip where the plasma had hit- the overcharged bolt had seared through the SPI armor like a blowtorch would a rag soaked in kerosene, and Leon's flesh was burned black at the point of impact. The heat seemed to have cauterized the wound, since there was no bleeding.

"Biofoam?" Naomi asked urgently.

"Can't," Cole replied- "it'll gum up the joint- we have to refit the leg first."

"Spare parts- my pack-" Leon grunted. At a nod from Naomi, Cole ripped off his team leader's field pack and tore through the contents. In between a stack of F-rations and half a dozen electronic remote detonators, Cole spotted a number of roughly cylindrical metal shapes. He grabbed all of them and turned to where Leon was lying, and ten seconds later, Leon had a thigh once again. After a further five, he tentatively stood, with an armor panel and pressure seal over his hip wound to keep the newly-applied Biofoam under pressure.

"Armory secured," Cole reported.

"Never thought I'd be thankful to have lost my leg…" Leon said blankly. "If that hadn't been replaceable-"

Cole slapped Leon on the side of his head. Leon instantly shifted to a fighting stance before looking around, and then slowly easing himself back into a standing position.

"Armory secured," Cole repeated. Leon shook his head briefly.

"Good. Get up top and set up the transmitter. Code Alpha-Two-Green; you know the drill."

Cole, Eve and Naomi all nodded as they left the armory. For what seemed like the billionth time in his time with Alpha Company, Cole consulted TEAMBIO. Leon's signs were erratic, but at least they were out of the red. As he and his teammates doubled back through the barracks, Cole felt his pack for a medkit, sighing quietly in relief as he ran his fingers along the octagonal case through his pack's polymer exterior.

Four short minutes later, a long-range signal transmitter had been installed on top of the base, and was broadcasting to the STARS in orbit. Cole waited as the time ticked by on his mission clock, second by agonizing second. At long last, a green indicator flashed on his heads up display. Cole couldn't help but smile.

"Alpha Two Green received from all units. All units, proceed to Phase Two."

Cole's smile grew, but then slowly disappeared as text scrolled down on his heads-up display- this was no time for levity.

"_TEAM FALCON PROCEED ON VECTOR ONE-THREE-THREE. DESTROY REACTORS DESIGNATED BRAVO SEVEN THROUGH BRAVO TEN. NEUTRALIZE ANY RESISTANCE EN ROUTE."_

As Falcon, Lion and Adder exchanged brief pats on the back before heading their own separate ways, Cole pulled up the Alpha Company roster. Out of the two hundred ten Spartans that had dropped in, two hundred three were now participating in Operation: PROMETHEUS- seven had died, either upon impact or due to Covenant forces at their impact site, although Cole doubted the latter was even a possibility. What did calm him, though, was that all four lights indicating the status of Team Raven glowed bright green.


	21. Chapter 20: Going Downhill From Here

**CHAPTER 20**

**0514 HOURS, 29 JULY 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA SILVER, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 3**

Cole blinked the sweat out of his eyes and resisted the urge to wipe his face with his hand- he'd only hit his visor anyway. SPI armor was definitely _not_ something to be worn on extended missions, but what choice did Alpha Company have? Seven of the Covenant plasma reactors had been destroyed- seven out of the thirty that were on the asteroid's surface. And the destruction of just those seven had managed to contaminate the local airspace with toxic coolants and dangerous levels of gaseous hydrogen, not to mention enough radiation to make any human sick to their stomachs and more. SPI armor, lacking though it was in the overall protective aspect that the term 'armor' implied, at least spared Cole and his fellow Spartans the worst of the radiation's effects.

_Too bad it gets so damn hot,_ he thought. The worst of it was that even removing one's helmet for anything over ten seconds would be enough to risk inhaling coolant fumes or a mouthful of tritium gas, so they had to be kept on. And right now, it was predawn. In ten minutes, give or take a minute, this section of the asteroid would rotate to face Gamma Sirius, and then it would be nineteen hours of baking before the sun would 'set'. Cole sighed.

"Team, report in."

"Naomi- catwalk is clear."

"Eve- vehicle depot's empty, and I'm fine too."

Cole switched his microphone on with a whisper. "Cole- no movement here."

"Copy that. Report again in fifteen. Leon out."

Cole's next sigh was doubly long. Alpha Company had moved ahead at full speed to destroy the Covenant plasma reactors on Days One and Two, but the two days of free movement guaranteed by the taking of strategic positions during Phase One of the operation had now expired- ONI had predicted a counterattack either on Day Three or Day Four. Nothing had come up yet, but ten fire teams had been pulled from dismantling the reactors in order to safeguard Alpha's perimeter, just in case. Right now, Cole kept watch from the partially-constructed hull fragment of a Covenant destroyer, which towered over the nearby buildings, given that they'd all been leveled the previous day.

Fourteen minutes later-

"Report in."

"Naomi- still nothing."

"Eve- vehicle yard is clear. Big yawns all around."

"Cut the chatter. Cole?"

"Nothing here."

"Good. Fifteen more minutes. Out."

It was then that Cole saw it. A slight movement in amongst the wreckage. Nothing dramatic, but it was definitely something. Rubble didn't get up and move. He flicked TEAMCOM on. "Hold up- I've got something."

"Check it out. Moving to cover you now. Naomi, Eve- standby."

Two acknowledgement lights lit up green.

Cole slid down the hull fragment he'd been perched on, curling into a ball and rolling close to the bottom. He came out of the roll with his carbine up and ready. He activated the Visual Intelligence System, or VIS, on his heads-up display, since Alpha Company's activities in the past few days had made thermal scanners next to useless. He'd heard that a specially designed reconnaissance variant of the VIS was being tested- he'd be sure to ask Lieutenant Ambrose about that too.

Cole stopped himself. There were things machines couldn't do. As Chief Mendez had put it only several days into Alpha Company's training, 'Machines break. People don't.' Not entirely accurate, but the Chief had made his point. As good as any piece of hardware could be, it was useless in the hands of an incompetent. So Cole wiped the thought from his mind and focused.

The VIS outlined every object in his field of view with a small white border. It linked his TEAMCAM to his motion tracking sensors in his suit, so anything that moved in his field of view would be outlined red, unless it had a UNSC-issue IFF tag, in which case it would show up as blue. While this meant that rolling or falling debris would be tagged as hostile, Cole was glad that the system was sensitive. 'It is always better to be too aware than not aware enough'. Chief Mendez, Day 142, Camp Currahee.

Cole swept the area with his carbine, not seeing any movement or any red. Near-silent footsteps sounded behind him, and within a second, Leon had joined him, an MA5B resting in his hands.

"Let's go."

Quietly, the two of them moved around the mounds of twisted metal and puddles of coolant, eyes peeled and ears straining to for a sign… something, anything, that would explain what Cole had seen.

Quick footfalls off to Cole's left set his heart off like a grenade. With a nod to Leon, he tore away down a clear path between two mounds of rubble, while Leon moved straight ahead.

A Grunt _thudded _and _thumped_ across the broken landscape on all fours, moving remarkably more quickly than Cole had ever seen one travel before. In an instant, he had the Grunt's head in the crosshairs of his carbine, but after a microsecond's hesitation, he rested his finger, and took off after the Grunt in complete silence.

"Leon," he whispered into TEAMCOM, making sure his external microphones were off first, "pursuing a Grunt. Don't engage- I'm going to follow him. Tell the others; I'll be com silent. Out." He then closed down all channels.

The Grunt continued to bound forward over the rubble, oblivious to a human shadowing it just a few meters away. Cole also activated his camo panels- if this Grunt was looking for friends, then it wouldn't hurt his chances of survival to be less visible. After several more minutes of running, the diminutive alien froze, and Cole stopped too. It glanced back and forth before spinning around to look directly at Cole, whose camo panels had just reset. Cole didn't dare to move- not to breathe, not even to blink. Nothing. The Grunt peered at the apparent bulge in midair, and actually took a step forward. Cole had to resist every urge, burned into him by three years of training, to shift his weight forward.

After four agonizing seconds, the Grunt turned and tore off once again, with Cole in hot pursuit. As he rounded a bend, red seemed to blossom across his view, and he skidded to a silent halt.

At least three dozen Covenant troops were gathered at a makeshift rally point- roughly eight or nine Jackals kept watch at the most significant egress points, while the more attentive Grunts either milled about the area or tried to find a secluded sleeping spot that wasn't already occupied. The less attentive Grunts were either napping or… Cole noted with no small distaste that three of the Jackals were chewing on _something_ as they scanned the nearby area, and while he had a hunch about what that something might be, he had no desire to try and confirm it.

Most interestingly, though, were the two largest of the aliens gathered here. There was no mistaking an Elite Major for anything else, with a large saurian form, coated in red alloy armor, a needler pistol clamped to a strip on its thigh. But Cole could not, for all he was worth, identify the second one. It wore armor as well, but it was deep blue, and did not have the same design or articulation as the armor the Elite wore. It was taller than the Elite, and appeared to be more heavily built, more muscular. Its face, a bizarre cross between a dog, and ape and a lizard, replete with an impressive beard, seemed to be locked in a perpetual growl, which displayed a mouth full of large sharp teeth.

At any rate, the two were arguing. And it wasn't just a minor issue, either. The Covenant-English translator in his suit opened a small window in the corner of his heads-up display, green text scrolling across its surface, and Cole saw numerous insults being traded between the two large aliens. At one point, the larger of the pair actually shoved the shorter Elite away. In a flash, the snarling Major shoved his needler pistol into the chin of the larger alien, which successfully cowed the other into backing down, albeit with much growling. Cole noticed its clawed hand flexing near an unusual bright red plasma rifle attached to its thigh armor.

Cole's eyes narrowed. There was some definite bad blood between these two.

But something else caught his attention. The Elite and the- whatever the other thing was- were armed, and so were most of the Jackals, but only one or two of the Grunts did. Most didn't even have grenades, sometimes willingly primed and carried into battle by the less stable Grunts. The squat aliens would, in the event of any battle, be walking into a meat grinder with even less preparation than normal- granted, any battle at all would be a meat grinder for Grunts anyway, but still…

Cole turned around and slowly walked away, picking up the pace only when he was certain that he could no longer be heard. Even so, he kept an eye on his TACMAP, just to be sure. Within ten minutes, he'd caught up to Leon, who was doubling back along the route that Cole chased the Grunt through.

"Well?" Falcon's leader asked.

"Three to four dozen Covies," Cole reported. "Bunch of Grunts, a few Jackals, but just one Elite." Leon's posture instantly became more relaxed- his mauling on the Far-Gone Platform apparently was not so distant a memory. "But there was another one there, though- I couldn't ID it. It was big- two point three meters easy. Even the El-Tee isn't that tall." He sent the relevant TEAMCAM images to Leon, and even though both of their faceplates were polarized, Cole could practically see him blanch as he viewed the images.

"We have to get the message out," said Leon once he was done, and he broadcast on TEAMCOM. "Eve, Naomi- watch our route in. We'll transmit Epsilon Red once we get to a relay, acknowledge."

"Aye, Leon."

"Loud and clear, boss-man."

Leon and Cole proceeded into the sections of the reactor complexes controlled by Alpha Company at a full sprint. As they ran, damage became less apparent. _That's good_, Cole thought, checking his mission clock. In order to avoid the various fire teams running into each others' blast zones when the plasma reactors blew, the detonations were to be timed and staggered according to a preset pattern, and by Cole's timer, he and Leon were clear, at least for the next half hour.

They reached a signal transmitter and battery unit positioned on top of a methane processing plant, which had now been converted into an outpost by Team Vulture. Alfonse-A002 and Kira-A351 nodded and let them into the building. Twenty-one seconds later, Leon and Cole ran onto the roof, where Linda-A444 stood, battle rifle at the ready, guarding the transmitter.

"We need to get a message to the STARS," Leon breathed quickly. "Epsilon Red, Team Falcon, Target Area Silver."

Linda stood aside, and Leon repeated his message into a small speaker. Barely ten seconds passed before text began scrolling down his display.

"CODE EPSILON RED RECEIVED- INITIATE RAZORBACK CONTINGENCY. TEAM FALCON LINK UP WITH TEAM CONDOR AND GRIZZLY. PROCEED TO TARGET AREA SILVER, SECTOR THREE ON BEARING ONE-TWO-SIX. CONTINGENCY ORDERS: ELIMINATE ALL COVENANT FORCES."

Without hesitation, Cole tore down the two-story building, Leon hot on his heels. The two of them sprinted as hard as they could, only stopping when a cluster of IFF readouts identifying Eve and Naomi popped into view. Along the way, they came across several of the other teams, all running towards their own assigned sectors. Cole's heart skipped a beat when he saw Team Raven moving out, but he kept running.

Naomi and Eve, seemingly identical in their SPI suits, slid into view, accompanied by nine other Spartans. With quick nods to each other, the thirteen of them sped off, quiet as a whisper, visible only as a patch of shimmering heat blurs in the air.

Cole looked at his TACMAP- the dozen-plus green blips representing the three teams were headed into one of the first destroyed reactor complexes, where, from the looks of it, at least fifty hostile contacts were located. Almost unconsciously, Cole glanced up at the sky. _STARS must be repositioning_, he thought to himself.

Then Cole heard it. Footsteps, accompanied by a squawk. He froze, and he wasn't alone. Twelve other Spartans in SPI suits immediately stopped moving, and their disguise became complete- with the exception of Leon's metal leg.

Fortunately, this was the first and only thing the Jackal saw, its gaze instantly shifting to what appeared to be a free-standing limb before a quickly thrown combat knife to its eye downed the alien.

And then- a call. A cautious squawk, undoubtedly from another Jackal. Leon jerked his head to one side at this. Cole, understanding, broke for cover, shouldering the first Jackal's corpse. The other Spartans quickly followed suit. From his crouching position behind what used to be a wall, Cole peered out. A lone Jackal, plasma pistol in hand, walked towards them, crowing for its comrade. It called once, twice, three times. After a further lack of response, the alien growled, baring its razor teeth, before turning around and calling to something back where it had came from.

A throng of Grunts ambled out, nervously twitching and glancing to and fro as they moved. Every now and then, one would attempt to flee into the mounds of rubble, but the five Elites that brought up the rear of the column made it their business to physically kick any unruly subordinates back into the fold.

Cole grimaced. Very few of the Grunts were armed, but the same could not be said of the Elites. Three carried needlers, the one of the others sported a plasma rifle. Even the one that was closest to unarmed carried a plasma pistol. The SPI armor he and his teammates wore would be no better protection against any of those than rice paper. In a straight-up fight, there was no way they could win without losing at least half of their numbers, and as far as Cole was concerned, even losing one was too much.

"We need to spread out," he hissed. "We stay here and they'll cook us."

Leon nodded. Turning to the other two team leaders, he whispered something that was hard to hear, even over TEAMCOM. The whole thing lasted only several seconds, upon which Leon's head faced Falcon once again.

"Eve, Cole- you two are with me. We're support for Condor. Naomi- how do you feel about playing rabbit?"

Naomi's only response was a two-fingered horizontal swipe across her faceplate.

As they spoke, Team Grizzly, camouflage on, crept out from the rubble and circled around the back of the Covenant line, while Condor prepared det cord and Antilon antipersonnel mines. Falcon, sans Naomi, stacked up against what remained of a wall, backs to the line of Grunts and Elites. Naomi, conspicuously visible to her teammates' eyes, followed the Elites, but she did not make a sound, nor give them any reason to suspect that there was anything behind them.

Cole, Eve and Leon activated their camouflage panels and stood, their rifle muzzles resting gently on the lip of the wall. Condor glided past them and lay down half a dozen Antilon mine packs, rigging the detonators as they went. When their work was done, Team Condor lay down strips of light-absorbing foil over the mines, and then just as quickly retreated to cover.

"Trap is set."

"But not baited," Cole muttered under his breath, expanding his TACMAP window to better track Naomi's movement.

"Naomi, trap is set. Let the rabbit loose."

"Gotcha. See you in two."

Cole brought up a video feed from Naomi's TEAMCAM. She was moving alongside the Covenant troops, closer to the end with the Jackal on point than to the Elites. The muzzle of her M7 flashed, and the avian form in front of her fell.

All hell broke loose. The Grunts, now in a blind panic, scattered en masse, and not even the Elites' kicks and threats could keep them in line, although not for lack of trying. And then they spotted her. A deluge of blue, pink and green missiles streaked past her as she sprinted into a hollowed-out reactor. Behind the green blip that represented her on TACMAP were five red ovals. The muscles in his legs tensed out of instinct, but Leon, seeing this, put a hand on his shoulder, and Cole's breathing slowed.

In the video feed, Naomi vaulted over a collapsed wall, and then pressed herself flat against it once she was over. The Elites bounded over, and then halted, their target nowhere to be found. Noiselessly, Naomi rose and seized the rearmost Elite's armor, forcing its head back before her combat knife drew a blue line across the Elite's throat.

The other four Elites, hearing their comrade fall, spun on the spot, unleashing a storm of plasma and needler rounds without hesitation. Naomi, who was already leaping back over the low wall she'd just jumped, dodged most of them, but one glowing pink needle sliced through the back plate of her SPI armor, lodging itself in her back. As it detonated, Naomi's TEAMBIO readings flashed red as the shards ripped through the muscles in her back and punctured her lung. Cole's breath abandoned him- and yet, somehow, Naomi was still running.

Naomi stumbled and tripped as more plasma sailed over her head, dropping her M7. She then sprinted and leaped across the rubble, back towards Condor's mines. On TACMAP, five angry red signatures closed in on a single green one, just as Naomi came into Cole's field of view.

"Come on…" he whispered, blinking quickly to clear the sweat from his eyes. Naomi sprinted past the minefield just as her Elite pursuers leveled their weapons at her retreating back. Needler quills and plasma bolts streaked in a deadly volley towards the injured Spartan, only to streak over her head as Naomi stumbled and fell, face first, into the rubble-strewn ground. Just then, Cole heard a _click_ behind him.

The walls buckled from the force of the blasts, and dust flew into Cole's visor. Rapidly switching his heads-up display to detect thermals, he fired bursts from his carbine into the Elites' bodies any time they so much as moved. When they no longer did, Cole emptied the rest of his magazine into one of the bodies.

Falcon rushed to Naomi's side as Condor and Grizzly policed the bodies. She tried to sit, but twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, relenting in her attempt after several seconds. Cole reached up to her helmet, unsealing and removing it. Both Eve and Leon tensed, and Cole knew why, but that wouldn't matter. Once they got off the asteroid, he'd see to it that Naomi got all the necessary radiation treatments. If she died now, then it was moot.

Naomi's breath came in heaving gasps, and a trail of blood ran from each corner of her mouth down to her chin. She coughed violently, and more blood bubbled up.

Eve and Cole flipped Naomi over and released the pressure seals on her back armor, exposing her back. The needler round and the resulting splinters had torn straight through her body sheathing and punctured both her back muscles and lungs.

"Biofoam," Cole breathed, and as if on cue, Leon crouched nearby, a canister of the multipurpose medical compound in hand, and in under a second, it was empty, and Naomi's wounds were sealed, at least from the outside. A raw cry erupted from her throat as the Biofoam did its excruciating work, and a savage grimace worked its way onto her face as her facial muscles contorted.

"Should we try to move her?" Cole asked, only the slightest touch of concern showing in his voice.

"I'm fine," Naomi grunted, trying to pull herself up with an almighty heave- and failing. She reached over, grabbed her helmet, and practically rammed it onto her head, sealing it just as quickly.

"You were just shot in the back," Leon said sternly. "Give the Biofoam a minute to-"

"I'm FINE!" Naomi snapped back, her voice now a shriek. Her arm whipped out, catching Cole in the stomach and cracking a panel on his armor. Cole glanced, half-shocked, at the shattered camo plate. It took Naomi exactly that long to pull herself up. She flinched once, and for an instance her hand lurched towards her back, but just as quickly, the moment passed, and Naomi stood, M6 pistol in hand.

"Ready to go," she said, her breathing haggard. "Sorry," she said, almost as an afterthought, looking at Cole's armor. He waved the apology away. One camouflage plate wasn't something a Spartan got worked up over, except maybe if it was the last one on the suit. Maybe.

Lines of scrolling text put an end to his musings.

"TEAM FALCON REPOSITION TO TARGET AREA GOLD ON VECTOR TWO-ONE-ONE. PROVIDE FIRE SUPPORT FOR TEAM PYTHON. BE ADVISED: ROUTE IS CONTESTED- COVENANT FORCES MAY BE PRESENT."

Cole gritted his teeth.


	22. Chapter 21: Attrition

**CHAPTER 21**

**0331 HOURS, 30 JULY 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA BRONZE, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 4**

At one point six meters tall, and weighing on average eighty kilograms, it was no surprise that Alpha Company's SPARTAN-IIIs were well suited for stealth, being as they were, not much larger than an ordinary human being. Add years of stealth training and enhanced speed to the mix, and one could possibly question the necessity of SPI armor. Four Spartans, in _full_ SPI armor, sprinted, both near-invisible and in complete silence along what seemed like an endless line of rooftops. The third in line, Cole-A299, reloaded as he ran, not wasting a moment.

Fire team Falcon was shadowing the advance of a column of Jackals, which now ran with equal speed through the narrow lanes below the four Spartans. The platoon directly below them and to their left, thirty in number, was the advance guard for a force of at least one hundred Covenant troops, meant to soften the Spartans up before the Covenant brought the full weight of their numbers against the numerically inferior super-soldiers.

Cole watched his TACMAP display intently, as the cluster of red ovals neared a mass of strategically positioned green blips. Two seconds later, his TEAMCOM hissed to life.

"We see you, Falcon."

"Roger," Leon replied. "Moving to containment position now."

"Negative," the other Spartan said, "they're in too deep- no way they'll survive the crossfire. Move to Intercept Point Beta- get ready for the main group."

"Solid copy, on our way." With that, Falcon ground to a halt, and doubled back to a point roughly one hundred meters behind where they had stopped. From there, they ran across a catwalk crossing the narrow lane below, and proceeded to climb a set of exterior ladders installed on a Grunt workers' barracks, now converted into an Alpha Company watchtower, courtesy of its five-story height. Half a dozen SRS99D sniper rifles were laid out on an insta-crete balcony with collapsible titanium railings. Cole put his MA5K carbine down- much as he preferred close-in work, some tasks required a little more precision.

He detached the Oracle scope from the rifle and connected it with a hard line uplink to his helmet, then pointed the scope towards Alpha Company's ambush position. Zooming in made it look almost as if he was standing directly above the Jackals. Cole's pulse quickened, and his sweating, more intense than ever, now had two causes, the other being his SPI suit's now-wrecked cooling system.

One word across the COMs was all it took.

"Go."

Explosions from Antilon anti-personnel mines tore through the flagstones, catapulting Jackals through the air and incinerating those who were too close to the blasts. Metal and stone pelted the reptilian aliens, and those with hand-held energy shields clutched them close and hung on for dear life. It was over in under a second, and the survivors rose from behind their shields, quaking as they did so.

Then, as the smoke began to clear, a cacophony of shots rang out. Any Jackal that had survived the initial explosions now flopped to the cracked and scorched pavements, holes in their heads leaking fluid.

"Advance force eliminated- move to Intercept Point Beta," the order came. Twenty-one acknowledgement lights blinked green, and although they could not be seen or heard, Cole knew that his fellow Spartans were repositioning to best strike at the main Covenant force.

He sighed. The Covenant had recovered more completely than he thought, and were now attempting assaults with company-sized units- or sometimes greater- trying to take back either the reactors or the plasma armories. At least, that was what the attacks led by Elites seemed to be based on. While only one assault spearheaded my the massive, ape-like aliens had been repulsed, the action report from Team Mongoose had been unnerving. A pack- which was the only way they could be described- of the aliens had viciously and vainly assaulted the Spartan fire team's dug in position, not even caring as their numbers were thinned with explosive traps and M-19 rocket launchers, which seemed only to make any survivors angrier and, if it was possible, even fiercer. Their sole goal, as far as Cole could see, was simply to take out as many Spartans as possible. _I'd take the Elites any day_, he thought to himself.

A thump on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Get your sight screwed on!" Leon hissed.

Cole disconnected the optic from his helmet and promptly reattached it to his SRS99D. He pointed the rifle at the advancing Covenant force, now visible as a bobbing black mass against the hellish orange ambient light. The lights, the results of nuclear fires and the remnants of artificial lighting systems, made 'nighttime conditions' a defunct term on K7-49. The Spartans and Covenant fought in never-ending light.

Cole spotted five Elites amongst the Covenant troops- a Zealot in golden armor, with a plasma rifle in its hand and an energy sword hilt on its thigh, lead the formation, and four Majors, each sporting a maroon carbine, surrounded their leader, creating an effective wall of shielded armor and flesh. At the very back, though, were at least two dozen of the armored, shaggy aliens that Alpha Company had come to know as Type Bravos, or Bravos for short. Each sported several minor cuts and burns, and Cole did not miss the looks they threw the Elites up front. They had not been exchanging pleasantries- that was for sure.

Cole lined his sights up with the head of the largest of the Type Bravos, a particularly surly-looking individual bearing a massive hammer with multiple lights on its head. How any electronics could still function on a hammer's head was anyone's guess, Cole thought. All the same, he made sure the center of his crosshairs was aligned with the center of the brutish face.

A shot rang out, and the Elite Zealot clutched at its chest before pitching over into the ground. All hell proceeded to break loose.

Grenades sailed through the air- plasma grenades sailing out of the Covenant ranks, and fragmentation grenades flying the other way. Even before they detonated, Cole knew their cover was blown- the radiation flash from the plasma grenades could short-circuit their SPI camouflage panels. The only way to avoid that was to be out of range, and that meant moving. As twenty-one Spartans ran like hell, over a hundred Covenant heads turned, and a like number of weapons were leveled.

Cole squeezed the trigger on his sniper rifle, but just as he did so, the huge Type Bravo began to launch itself forward, and his shot, which should have passed directly through its skull, ended up puncturing the thing's neck. A bestial howl escaped its throat, and yet it continued to bound forward after the members of Alpha Company it could see, halting only after Caleb-A471, who was positioned furthest back, put a controlled trio of pistol rounds into its face. It dropped to the ground, clutching its throat. Cole's mouth hung open for an instant.

With grenades no longer a concern, the twenty-one Alpha Company Spartans present rushed the Covenant once again. The four Elite Majors stood their ground, but they were alone in this. The Grunts backpedaled away, firing their weapons all the while, wanting nothing more to get away but having enough sense in their heads not to present their backs to the Spartans. The twenty-plus Type Bravos, however, charged, heedless of any Grunts they bowled over, threw aside, or summarily crushed.

The SPARTAN-IIIs flowed like water through a series of channels, weaving back and forth between panicked Grunts, tightly-packed Elites and the increasingly enraged Type Bravos. The huge apelike aliens more often found themselves hitting one another than a Spartan, a fact which seemed to spur them on even further. Through it all, Cole only fired a handful of shots from his sniper rifle- he could aim quickly, but the melee was shifting far faster than he could adjust his sights, and if there was one thing that Cole wanted to avoid, it was hitting a Spartan.

Cole slammed his SRS99D down on the floor and picked up his carbine. In a single motion, he vaulted over the collapsible railings and slid down the nearest ladder, landing with a soft _pat_ on a roof just one story above the close-range firefight. Without ado, he began firing, sending bursts of death and mayhem into the fracas below.

The Elites' forms flared silver as rounds from Cole's carbine impacted their energy shields, and continued to flash, both from 7.62mm rounds and from the hit-and-run strikes carried out by Spartans closer to the ground. A few moments of near-constant shimmering was all the shields could take, and one by one, they vanished, followed shortly thereafter by the removal of the Elites from the battle. At the deaths of the Majors, the Grunts lost all cohesion, turning and running for all they were worth. Cole let them escape; there were bigger fish to fry.

Unimpeded by allies to look out for, white-hot spikes and bolts of crimson plasma flashed as the Type Bravos poured their fury out. The twenty-one Spartans engaged in the melee ducked and weaved, avoiding blows by ever closer margins, their weapons spewing staccato bursts point-blank. Periodically, a Type Bravo's flaring shields would flicker and _pop_; large, iridescent balloons. Sprays of vermillion would soon follow.

Cole slotted a full magazine into his MA5K and yanked the charging handle. Within three seconds, he'd emptied his clip into the exposed back of a Type Bravo, depleting its shields. As it spun around to face him, he fell back, leaving it open for Lucas-A211 to slit its throat.

Slowly, one by one, the Type Bravos dropped to the stone, their bodies, armor and –more often than not- faces full of lead rounds and knife scars. Cole's left hand flew back and forth between his carbine, ammunition belt and charging handle in a ceaseless routine as he engaged one Type Bravo after another. As his carbine _clacked_ and the magazine slid out, Cole reflexively grabbed at the ammunition panel on his thigh, only nothing was there. Up came his M6 pistol, but there was nothing to fire at. The last Type Bravo in the group now lay prone, a combat knife in the small of its neck.

"Seven down," a voice commented bitterly from Cole's side. He turned to see Eve tossing her spent M7 submachine gun to the side, and then turned his attention back down to the scene of the skirmish.

Mixed in with the dozens of Covenant corpses were at least half a dozen human forms. Five sported scorch marks over the majority of their bodies, while one was sprawled on the ground with three massive spikes protruding from the neck and back. The last half-lay, half-sat, against a wall, a spike through its chest and its neck twisted at an impossible angle. Cole read its IFF tag before turning away, and cleared the screen as Lucas-A211 came up on his heads-up display. He tried to ignore the bile clawing its way through his system, and succeeded- for the most part.

"Seven of us for a hundred of them," Eve growled. "Makes ONI happy, I guess."

Leon loped over between them. "Both of you, can it. We're moving out."

"_Where_?" Cole asked, incredulous.

"TA Steel," Leon replied with a breath. "Elites are trying to retake the reactors. Let's get moving."

Cole let out a haggard sigh. Whatever else the Covenant had, it definitely did not want for persistence.

The five-minute sprint at thirty kilometers per hour seemed to last an eternity, and while years of training had diminished the physical wear and tear, Cole was panting by the end of the run. Static rippled and popped across the plates of his SPI suit, ruining its camouflage settings. And to top the whole thing off, Cole's face- his entire body- was drenched in sweat. Given that his cooling systems had failed three days ago, Cole was surprised that he had anything left to sweat.

They arrived at a huge triple-tiered building with three columns of steam gushing from a like number of towers on the roof. As Falcon approached, a set of pneumatic doors hissed apart, revealing a metallic interior, which was the same purple shade as most other things Covenant-built. Falcon's four Spartans entered.

A NAV marker appeared at the top of Cole's HUD, and as he looked up, four green alphanumeric readouts appeared, identifying the Spartans of Team Raven.

"Welcome to the Pit, Falcon." It wasn't Audrey speaking, though.

"Neil?" Leon asked. "What's the sitrep?"

"We've fought through one wave already," Raven's de facto leader answered, "and Audrey took a needle in the shoulder. Pam's checking the damage- one of the fragments is lodged someplace."

"Where should we be?"

"Get up here- we've got long-range weapons to thin out the Elites before they get here. Just so you know, the doors are all locked now, so falling back isn't an option."

_As if any of us would do that anyway_, Cole thought to himself.

After ascending a labyrinthine series of passages and ramps, Falcon emerged on a small platform. To one side, further towards the inside of the building, several holographic consoles flashed and glowed different colors, indicating the status of the reactor that nested in the building's heart.

To the other side, a makeshift firing gallery had been built. Alpha Company had done this to any reactor they secured but had not yet destroyed. A portion of the wall had been cut away, giving the second-floor platform a commanding view of the area below. Even as Cole looked through it, two- and three-man, or rather two- and three-alien Elite fire teams rushed from one structure to another, drawing closer to the reactor by the minute.

Cole was yanked from his observations by an angry comment. "How did this happen?" Karen demanded angrily as she inspected her rifle. "Wasn't the whole Day One op meant to take out their counter-offensive troops?"

"The reactors are clustered close together," Audrey said, sitting up. Her voice was raw and her breathing haggard. "When we landed here-" she let out a wet cough- "we took out the bases in the immediate area. Taking the whole asteroid would have taken too long."

The end of the explanation was greeted by a slightly stunned silence.

"I really hate ONI sometimes," Eve said at length, summing up everyone's feelings before walking over to one of a dozen rifles resting underneath the firing window. "What are these?"

The rifle was only slightly longer than a standard MA5B assault rifle, with a cut down muzzle and no muzzle shroud. A carrying rail and optical scope were mounted atop the weapon, and the rifle's magazine, like that of the MA5B, was inserted behind the grip, in the weapon's stock.

"Some kind of battle rifle," Neil said, turning to face Falcon. "Lays down suppressing fire like nothing else, and it's got the fattest shell you'll ever see."

"Charming," Cole couldn't help but comment. He could almost see Neil's smile.

"Call it what you want, you're using one." And with that, he tossed two to Cole and Leon. Cole inspected the weapon, noting that, like his carbine and the MA5B, the battle rifle had an electronic ammunition counter. He frowned as he noticed that there were only thirty-six rounds. He much preferred sixty rounds to fire, even if the individual shells were smaller.

Cole slowed his breathing as he moved up to the firing window and sighted an Elite through the scope mounted on his rifle.

"Anything else I should know?" he asked, his finger creeping over the trigger guard.

"Regular setting on this thing is a three-round burst," Neil replied dispassionately, "but you can also fire off single shots. Put a burst through an unshielded target and you'll hit gold."

Cole heard the telltale shuffle of movement as Falcon and a few members of Raven moved up beside him with their rifles, but paid them no heed for now. He lined up a shot and pulled the trigger. The rifle kicked three times in succession, sending a trio of rounds slamming into the Elite's shield, which shimmered silver as they absorbed the kinetic energy of the shots.

Cole continued to let off three-round bursts at the Elite. But it, as well as its comrades, had caught on to the attack, and now dodged, ducked and weaved back and forth as they wound their way towards the reactor. Cole missed a fair number of shots, but he landed them more often than not. Finally, with a flash and a spark, the shimmering shield vanished, and Cole yanked at the trigger, smiling darkly as blue blood spattered the ground and the Elite keeled over.

He checked the ammunition counter. Eighteen rounds. Enough- assuming the Elites didn't dodge them all. He put his eye up to the scope again.

Five bursts and one dead Elite later, Cole yanked out the nearly-spent clip and rammed a new one in, immediately sighting and killing an Elite with depleted shields that had just dodged Naomi's last shots. Naomi didn't protest- there was no place for pride in a firefight. A kill was a kill.

The Elites began to return fire. But it wasn't a concentrated effort; they weren't trying to root out the Spartans. Like UNSC military forces, the Elites knew how to use covering fire to shield their advance. Green and purple flashes flew from the phalanx of Elites as they made their way ever closer to the Spartans' position.

Out of the blue, one of the Elites fired a piercing lilac ray at the firing window. It hit Karen, but she was only in its path for a split second before she fell backwards, the plates on her SPI armor shattered like so many shards of glass. Cole didn't even need to look at TEAMBIO to know she was gone.

Falcon and Raven immediately poured their fire into the offending Elite. Agile as the sniper was, he couldn't avoid shots from seven separate shooters all at once, and went down shortly.

But the Elites were now closer than ever, and one of them carried a weapon that worried Cole. For one, it was carried over the Elite's shoulder, and it was not shaped like a rifle or any small armament Cole had ever seen. Its irregular shape was capped by a small viewing scope, and as its carrier ran through the bursts Cole fired, four small flaps popped out of the weapon's side, and its mouth glowed a hot blue.

"They're trying to breach the door!" Cole roared, already halfway towards a ramp to the lower levels. He was too late. With four thunderous _crashes_, the door nearest the advancing Elites buckled and flew open, and squad after squad of Elites swarmed into the bottom room.


	23. Chapter 22: Acceptable Losses

**CHAPTER 22**

**0349 HOURS, 30 JULY 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA STEEL, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 4**

The air rippled with pressure waves as fragmentation grenades detonated, peppering the Elites on the ground floor with shrapnel. Those hit by the razor-sharp metal alone continued to charge, only momentarily fazed by the impacts on their shields. Those adjacent to the explosions, though, were catapulted into walls or their comrades, usually with sickening _crunch_es.

For Teams Raven and Falcon, though, any shift in the odds, no matter how slight, was welcome. They rained fire down on the attackers, whose advance had slowed to a snail's pace as the seven Spartans- or, more specifically, the assault rifles the seven Spartans carried- made them think twice about moving from cover on the reactor complex's first floor.

As the Elites hid, though, the firing grew more and more sporadic, until finally it stopped altogether. Cole glanced at Leon, and he didn't need to ask about the situation- he didn't need to tell anyone what their dilemma was. The Spartans were pointing their rifles at the ramps, ready to eliminate anything that ascended, while the Elites waited down below, ready to burn through enemies who were brave enough to venture down.

"All right," Audrey said at length, and six heads, even Leon's, turned her way- any idea would be welcome.

"We're stuck here, and we can't show ourselves down there. They can't show themselves up here. Our camo panels short out on exposure to radiation."

Cole blinked. What he had just heard wasn't exactly a plan, and he couldn't help but blurt out, "So what's your point?"

Audrey sighed. "So- we have only one weapon that can take all those Elites out without getting us all into a firefight with fifty _pissed_ off Covenant soldiers."

Cole glanced to the bulbous reactor core, which was ablaze with heat, which he could even feel, sitting as he was over sixty meters away from it.

"I'm waiting to hear the part that doesn't end up with us being flash-fried," Eve put in. Cole and Naomi nodded their assent, and Leon glared in Eve's direction.

"We make our own way out. Rig the core to blow, and then open an exit through the far wall. Hook up four ziplines, and we can rappel down."

"Four?" Cole asked, puzzled.

"Four," Audrey repeated. "Falcon goes first, and there's enough of them once you're all down for us-" at this, she paused and took a momentary breath- "to follow."

Leon nodded- Karen's body lay not two meters away. Cole narrowed his eyes. "Why are you following?"

"Because we'll be covering the approaches to this floor," Neil said before Audrey could reply, a touch of impatience to his voice. "How was that not clear?"

Cole looked Neil up and down. "You're joking, right? There's no way in hell we're letting you get-"

"_Letting _us? What makes you think we'll bite the big one? We'll be keeping _your_ sorry rears from getting boiled off!"

"You're further under strength than we are! You are not covering our backs!"

Audrey stood turned to face Leon- she only stood up to the middle of his faceplate. Since Leon was one of Alpha Company's largest, that wasn't surprising, but it wasn't Audrey's height that made the statement- it was her stance. Her message was clear.

"Leon," she said, her tone almost palpably cold, "inform Alpha Two-Nine-Nine that his privileges do not extend to giving my fire team orders."

"Back off," Leon snapped. As Audrey took a step back, Leon turned to Cole.

"Get over here."

Cole's hands balled into fists.

"Cole. Get. Over. Here."

Cole twitched in the direction he was facing, but his feet were locked in place.

"Now, Spartan."

Cole's growl was too soft to hear. With all the force he could muster, though, he wrenched his foot off the metal floor and stepped towards Leon. The three-meter walk seemed to take forever and a day, but when it was through, he stood next to the rest of Team Falcon.

"All right, Falcon, prep the demo rigs for a single point signal," Leon ordered. As the four teammates pulled out their gear, Leon opened a private channel to Cole.

"Stay focused," he hissed. Cole simply closed the channel down.

Cole crouched by the Covenant plasma reactor, ignoring the shrill whine of his SPI suit's radiation counter. His blood heated to a slow boil as he keyed on the explosive charges to detonate at a signal from Leon's gauntlet datapad. Demolitions, clearing a back way out- that was soft duty. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at Team Raven, who were watching their backs.

"Report," Audrey said over the COM.

"Charge One is set," Leon replied.

"Charge Two, ready to blow," came the answer from Naomi.

Cole sighed, but only hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Three is rigged."

"Number Four, clocked up and ready to go."

"All right," Audrey said, a slight edge to her voice, " blow us a back way out and hook up the zip lines. I'll need two from Falcon for the watch- the Elites _might_ hear us making a back door."

Cole automatically turned on one foot, only to practically run into Leon, who held him back.

"I'm on the perimeter," he told the larger Spartan.

"No, Cole, you're not."

"Yes, I am." And with that, Cole shook free of Leon's grasp, only to have his team leader's other hand placed on his armor's chest plate. Leon stepped between him and Team Raven.

"Cole," Leon said, his voice completely steady, "you are not guarding the rear. You're less effective on watch if you're constantly hovering around Raven."

"I won't-" Cole started to protest, but Leon cut him off.

"You can deny it, but it'll just be a lot quicker if you stop. We have a mission to carry out. Whatever happens between you and Pam can wait. Do whatever you want off the clock, but right now, you belong to ONI, and by extension, me. Am I clear?"

Cole held out his hand. "Give me the zip lines."

Leon nodded, producing the elastic ropes. "Eve! Naomi!" he barked, "you're on perimeter duty with Raven!"

Naomi responded with a blink of her acknowledgment light. Eve, on the other hand, chuckled as she took her position, even slipping in a remark. "You sure about that, Leon? Seems _someone_ would be more enthusiastic about that job than me."

"Get to work," was all Leon would say.

Leon and Cole moved to the farthest wall from the first ramp to the bottom floor. The second floor of the reactor complex was unnecessarily complex- there were four ramps leading down to the level below, and two leading to the floor above. Both the ones that led to the third floor, and two of those that connected to the first, hugged the rounded inner walls, resulting in an arced shape. The two circular ramps ended up on the second floor at opposite ends of the building from each other, connected by a hallway, interrupted halfway along its length by the circular room that housed the plasma reactor. The remaining two that connected the first and second stories were straight, and led to opposite ends of a corridor that intersected the hallway created by the other two ramps. To put it simply, the second floor of the complex was shaped like a cross, with a circle in its center. At two of the points in the cross, there was a way up and a way down. At the other two, though, the egress point just led down.

Raven had collapsed one of the ramps running along the building's inner perimeter, but had only sealed and locked the doors from the two straight ramps. Profligacy with explosives tended to result in unforeseen consequences becoming reality.

Cole and Leon placed shaped charges against the wall, and then moved to the side of the explosives.

TEAMCOM clicked on. "Firing charges in three, two, one."

There was a sharp _crack-boom_ as the explosives cut through the metal and stone of the Covenant structure. This was a precision application of explosives- all the kinetic energy and heat was applied in a single direction, instead of ballooning the effects of the charges outwards. As such, the customary _boom_ became a much sharper and shorter sound, albeit still louder than any gunshot.

"Get those lines rigged," Audrey said urgently, "they definitely heard us."

Cole heard it too. Even though his ears still rang slightly, he could make out fragments of Elite speech coming from the floor below. As quickly as his practiced hands could react, he secured two zip lines to magnetic clamps and attached them to the metal walls, before casting the lines down. Leon had done the same.

"Lines secure," Cole reported.

"All right, secure the back route."

Cole froze momentarily, but then the part of him that knew Leon was standing not two meters away overrode his instincts to stay put. Cole placed his right hand on the line and grasped it firmly. He swung one foot, and then the other, over the breach in the wall, and then braced both feet against the metal wall. His empty left hand grabbed the zip line at roughly hip level, while his right held the line in front of his chest. In two seconds, he stood on the ground, his rifle in front of him.

For several seconds, he and Leon swept the surrounding area. Satisfied that there were not immediate threats, Cole blinked the light on his heads-up display green, and saw Leon's brighten as well.

"Back route clear," Leon said over TEAMCOM.

"Copy that. Naomi, Eve- back down and rejoin your team. We'll cover you."

Cole gritted his teeth. Audrey's manipulation of Falcon was likely done out of concern, but he and his team weren't civilians. They were Spartans.

Two more acknowledgment lights blinked green. Pam's, though, turned amber, and shortly afterward, Neil's did too.

"Contact," he said, and Cole heard gunfire over TEAMCOM. It lasted barely a second, and then there was quiet.

"Coward," Cole heard Neil spit. "So much for their- AARGH!" There was a sharp _crack-hiss _on TEAMCOM, followed by frantic gasping from Neil. A low, grunting laugh sounded somewhere nearby.

As one, Audrey and Pam yelled, "NEIL!", and the sound of assault rifle fire penetrated Cole's eardrums.

Cole spun around and looked up. Naomi and Eve, halfway down their zip lines, stopped their descent and immediately began to climb back up.

"Stop!" Leon barked. "Audrey, you and your team fall back to the back exit! Grenades will cover you, how copy?"

Splashes of plasma and the hisses of melting alloy filled Cole's ears.

"We need support _now_!" Audrey roared back. "We're pinned- we show our heads and the Elites have our heads on a plate!"

"Naomi! Eve! Grenades!" Cole shoted.

Naomi actually had the gall to ask, "Leon?", and Cole trembled on the spot, resisting every urge to sprint back to the zip lines as his pulse pounded in his ears. His heart beat like a drum, and his knuckles whitened beneath his SPI armor gauntlets.

"Do it!" Leon yelled.

Two fragmentation grenades cleared the lip of the wall, and dull thumps sounded soon afterward, mingled with howls of pain from the affected Elites.

"Pam! Get to the breach!"

"What about you?" Pam replied, but Cole barely heard. Disregarding Leon's frenzied shouts, he ran back towards the zip lines and clambered up, following Naomi and Eve as they ascended to the hole in the wall.

"I'm blowing the charges! GO! Don't argue!"

Panting, Cole reached over the edge of the hole he and Leon had blown in the wall. M6 magnum in hand, he pulled himself over, and didn't even need to fully digest the sight of half a dozen Elites on the second floor to start pulling the trigger. Naomi and Eve emerged alongside him, and the three opened fire on the Elites, actually taking the shields on one of the troopers down before blue plasma impacted the wall.

"Raven! Hurry!" Cole panted as he slid a fresh clip into his pistol.

Pam and Audrey glanced at each other, nodded, and rose from their crouches. They sprinted back, but halfway there, Audrey stopped and reversed direction, running back towards the core.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Eve and Pam shouted.

Audrey didn't even slow. "Radiation's fried the remote uplinks- I have to set it for a timed blast."

Cole's groan was drowned out by the sharp reports of his pistol.

Audrey moved up against the reactor, using it as cover against the hail of boiling plasma and energy needles while Cole, Eve, Pam and Naomi suppressed the Elites advancing up the corridor. The aliens weren't cooperative, though. Their shields sparkled and glowed as they absorbed the MA5 and magnum rounds. When one's shields gave way, another would move up in front and take the fire while its comrade's shield regenerated. The four Spartans had little to show for their work, downing only a single Elite for all the lead they poured into the corridor.

"All right," Audrey panted as she swept out her M6, "cover me. I'll need five seconds!"

"Do it!" Cole yelled, his voice growing hoarse.

Audrey moved up to the detonators and typed furiously with one hand into her datapad. As she did, the four Spartans supporting her kept firing, tossing plasma grenades overhead to deter the Elites. Roughly three seconds into the arming process, a titanic _BAM_ shook the walls. Audrey turned around towards the source of the explosions, and was looking to her left.

Cole realized with a jolt that the side corridor, running perpendicular to the one the Spartans were defending, wasn't covered.

Four blue bolts _hissed_ as they impacted Audrey's armor, melting the SPI armor's plates as if they were butter. Raven's leader collapsed to the ground without another word.

Pam reacted before Cole could even register that Audrey was gone. She sprinted towards the reactor with one hand outstretched. Before the fact could reach his head, Cole felt reality slam him in the gut. Then it hit him- his fingers weren't holding onto the wall anymore, and the opening he and Leon had created was moving away from him.

A whispered, "No..." escaped Cole's lips.

And then the pressure wave hit him.

Glowing golden cracks blossomed across the wall as the reactor went critical. The inferno shot out of every orifice, open or no. The rush of air picked Cole up and hurled him like a loose pebble into Leon, who gave way under the impact. All the while, the temperature, pressure and radiation warnings inside Cole's SPI suit blared and wailed as they were assaulted by the explosion.

Cole didn't remember hitting the ground, but it must have happened at some point, because he pushed himself up from a firm, level surface. He stood on two quaking legs and tried to steady himself. When he was content that he wasn't laying face-first on the floor, he became aware that Leon was yelling.

"Cole! I'm out of Biofoam, hand me a cylinder!"

The words bounced around Cole's head, echoing back and forth. He blinked and looked around, unable to exactly pinpoint the sound's source.

"COLE!"

Sheer volume brought Cole to. Looking off to his right, he saw Leon kneeling at Eve's side. Eve's SPI chestplate lay beside her supine form. Cole sprinted- and then slid- over to Leon. He pulled out a cylindrical Biofoam container and placed it in Leon's outstretched hand. Within two seconds, the cylinder was empty and Leon was reattaching Eve's SPI armor chestplate. A025 still only twitched, though, and didn't seem to note the present of her two teammates.

Leon said, his voice deathly quiet, "Giving her a shot of the stims. Keep your eyes peeled."

In two rapid motions, Leon removed Eve's left shoulder armor place and peeled away the body sheathing in the area, before injecting a syringe of a stimulant mixture into her shoulder. Almost immediately, Eve started, and she began to twitch and jerk. After roughly four seconds, she'd pulled herself up and was resealing her own helmet and shoulder plate.

"Son of a _bitch_," she said to the world at large, "did that just happen?"

Leon nodded, adding,"As someone who saw all of it and wasn't concussed, yes."

Eve stared down for a moment before looking straight at Cole. "I'm sorry, Cole. I really am."

A red hot weight sunk into Cole's gut, and he fought back a wave of bile in his throat. In response to Eve, though, he simply shook his head.

Eve sighed, before turning back to Leon. "Where's Naomi?"

Falcon's leader looked down at the ground, and not once did he even move his head upwards. He did remove something from a pouch on this belt, though. Two small, rounded rectangles of metal hung from a chain in his right hand.

"I couldn't do anything," Leon said, his voice steady. "I detonated the fail-safes in her armor. The Jackals are _not_ getting her."

If Eve was affected by the loss, she didn't show it. Cole would have been surprised, though, if she didn't feel like vomiting fire. His friend of four and a half years was gone. And like Tyler, the Covenant had killed her. They'd killed them just like they'd killed his family and burned his home.

Cole fought to keep himself from trembling as white-hot agony coursed through his system. He'd already lost everything once. And now he was losing everything again.

A beeping noise indicated speech on the UNSC open channel- the E-band.

"Falcon Actual, Raven Actual, we have radiologicals consistent with reactor detonation in your sector, confirm, over."

Cole put his hand up to the comm switch and opened his mouth, but immediately closed it after a half-choked breath was all he could force out. Leon answered.

"This is Falcon Actual, affirmative on reactor detonation, Wolf Pack Actual. Detonations implemented to neutralize Covenant counterforce. Advance neutralized, but we have five Spartans KIA, including all of Raven, over."

There was a pause. Then-

"Understood. Are any of your team WIA, over?"

"Affirmative. SPARTAN A Zero-Two-Five has radiation and thermal damage, and A Two-Nine-Nine may have sustained cranial damage. Biofoam has been applied, but I cannot ascertain the full extent of the injuries, over."

"Acknowledged. Get yourselves to the field treatment center in Target Area Iron, Falcon. Over and out."

Eve was indignant. "_Medical treatment_?" she exclaimed. "We should be out there cracking heads!"

Leon's sigh could have been a whisper on the wind. "Eve, you received burns over most of your upper body, and Cole landed on his neck. And that's not even getting to the possible shrapnel damage-"

"All right, I get it," Eve said, holding up her hand. "I don't get how any of us could stomach sitting in a field hospital."

Leon nodded, and then shrugged.

Cole sighed and removed his helmet. His free hand moved up towards his head, but paused before it reached his drenched forehead. Instead, Cole reached into his helmet and detached the radiation counter. The warnings that had been blaring ever since the explosion immediately cut out. Cole didn't relish the silence, though.

A tap at his shoulder caught his attention. He turned and took the MA5K carbine Eve held out for him. With a nod, he followed her and Leon away from the burning plasma reactor.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to get out, folks. The conclusion of this chapter was the result of at least half a dozen plans, and I ended up scrapping them all. It's not going to be long before we're done, so I'll try to get the chapters through the morass that is my head before the end of the year.


	24. Chapter 23: A Deep Breath

**CHAPTER 23**

**2238 HOURS, 1 AUGUST 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA COBALT, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 6**

"Jackal Actual to all points, detonating charges on reactor complex Nineteen now."

"Viper Actual to all points, neutralizing reactor complex Twenty now."

From his perch on top of a methane purification facility, Cole saw the blasts. Two domed buildings with columns of steam issuing out of them, about a finger's length apart from where he was situated, were the targets. Their walls buckled from the force of the explosions, and sections of the walls and roofs cracked and flew outwards, revealing a roiling inferno. The steam funnels shattered and toppled to the ground as hungry flames took the place of coolant vapors.

Cole sighed. Complexes Nineteen and Twenty had been the tipping point. Two thirds of the reactors had been destroyed, and the remainder wouldn't be able to generate enough heat to liquefy the asteroid's metallic interior. They would clog up, and K7-49 would just be another lump of rock once again.

From here on out, Alpha Company would be accomplishing its secondary objectives on the asteroid- disabling the remainder of the reactors and, if there was time, destroying the shipyards.

For once, though, Cole didn't want the added objectives. The mission was complete, and nobody would question Alpha Company if its members were extracted now, before any possible Covenant reinforcements arrived to complicate matters. But they were staying. It wasn't like them to do anything partway, even to the point where they could have stopped. Victory was either total or nonexistent.

They _had_ to fight.

Cole didn't feel the urge, though. His instincts weren't any duller. He could still snap every bone in an Elite's body, hear a silenced gunshot in a crowded noisy room, and see the individual wear marks on a polished sheet of metal. But he didn't want to use those skills. He needed time- an hour, or a day, when he could just stop and think.

"That's it." Off to his left, Leon-A176 exhaled for so long that Cole half-expected him to start coughing. "We've won."

Standing further along to Cole's left was Eve-A025, who snorted. "Some victory. There's barely seventy percent of us left. Less than half if you count our original strength."

Leon shrugged. "This place is out of commission now- no strategic value for the Covenant anymore. Come on, we've got work to do."

Eve actually laughed at this. "I thought you said we'd won."

Leon spoke as he checked his ammunition reserves. "But we're not done yet. They can still salvage reactor components and gravity lift materials from what's left of this place. We have to make sure there's nothing at all for those beasts to take. Let's move out."

"Of course," Eve muttered. "Gotta finish the fight..."

Cole didn't say anything, but simply brought up the rear.

They walked across a series of catwalks installed between the second floor of virtually every building in the area. The smell of hot metal wafted up from below, and a river of alloy lay, frozen in time in the lanes below. At first, it had been as fast as the Twin Forks River back on Onyx, but as time went on and it cooled, the metal streams had gotten slower and slower, and they had now stopped entirely. Whenever a foundry and its accompanying reactor were destroyed, they sent their boiling contents on top of the layers that previous reactors had laid down, but these new additions always cooled after several hours. As a result, most of Alpha Company's targeted areas were covered in a meter and a half of semi-refined metal.

While solid, the metal was still hot enough to be felt through SPI boots when Gamma Sirius shone on the surface, so Alpha Company was studiously avoiding ground level.

After an hour, Falcon arrived at a rally point. There was nothing special about this place- no hologram projectors, no TACMAP displays, no aides in uniform running around. The entirety of Alpha Company's presence at Rally Point Epsilon was a satellite dish and three fire teams. Several Spartans nodded or swiped fingers across their faceplates as they acknowledged Falcon, but the remainder were silent and still. One, Michael-A003, stood up and walked over to Leon.

"Sitrep?" he asked.

"Nothing," Leon replied in a quiet voice. "We beat them all back. It'll be quiet until extraction, unless they bring one hell of a counterforce in from their homeworld."

Michael nodded. "All right, so we're a-go for demolition. Now that you're here, we can get started on Twenty-One and Twenty-Two."

The four fire teams set off at a brisk pace. The journey was fairly uneventful, although Cole's frown deepened as Michael-A003 drew up next to Eve.

"Hey, Eve- you have a det cap I can borrow?"

Cole rolled his eyes and extracted an unprimed detonator cap from a belt pouch. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Eve shake her head, before saying, "I'm out, but Cole might have one."

"Hey-"

Cole held the cap out for Michael to take before he could get another word out of his mouth. He didn't turn his head once. Michael backed off a step.

"Is he all right?" Michael asked Eve tentatively.

"PTVD," Eve replied softly with a sigh, "Linda and Alphonse took a look at him, and that's what they got. Of course, they say that it's a a field workup, and they're not ONI, but- he hasn't said a word since Complex Fourteen."

"Fourteen? The one in TA Steel?"

"Yeah."

"Which team was that one assigned to again?"

"Raven."

"Oh..."

Cole's head spun about so fast he was almost certain his neck would snap. Michael only met his gaze for a moment, but then looked down. Cole was almost sure that Michael was shaking his head, but at that moment a strip of loose metal foil tumbled from its place atop a mound of debris, and the Spartans wheeled around, assault rifles at the ready. The momentary event drove Michael's actions from Cole's mind.

As the reactors loomed larger in the distance, Cole looked at them with a weary eye. Fifteen Spartans were moving in to destroy it.

_How many of us are gonna be walking out?_ Cole didn't even bother to silence the small voice at the back of his head.

* * *

Author's Note: A short chapter, because there's not much to say right now. This will be the last moment of calm in the story. The end begins soon. You have been warned.


	25. Chapter 24: Broken

Author's Note: Okay, that took quite a bit longer than expected. But it's out. Enjoy, folks.

* * *

**CHAPTER 24**

**1239 HOURS, 2 AUGUST 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**ON BOARD CRUISER UNSC **_**DAWN UNDER HEAVEN, **_**HIGH**** ORBIT OVER GAS PLANET CIELRASI, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 7**

Captain Jane Trask washed her face, smiling as she let the cold water play over her skin. There was only one way to wake up, and this was it. The stimulant mixture given to crews following cryonic suspension had been diluted and modified for general use as a 'wakeup drug', but for Trask, nothing beat cold water out of a faucet.

She dried off her face with a towel, and then proceeded to don her captain's uniform, although she doubted that she'd need it. For seven days, the _Dawn Under Heaven_ had been receiving messages from the STARS in orbit over K7-49, but not one had been serious enough that the cruiser would be needed. First, the operation had been running smoothly. Then Covenant troops on the asteroid's surface had launched a counterattack, and temporarily blunted the Spartans' progress, but it had been beaten, and now Alpha Company was finishing up with the last of their objectives on the asteroid.

"Another day of pomp and circumstance," Trask muttered to herself as she did up the final button on her uniform and pinned on her captain's insignia. Just then, her personal communicator began beeping. She picked it up and thumbed the 'Answer' control.

"Captain speaking."

"Ma'am, the XO just asked for you on the bridge. Says there's something you need to see."

"Tell him I'm on my way."

"Yes, ma'am."

Trask left her room for the elevator, her mind running through a checklist of what Hawke could need her on the bridge for. A Covenant attack would surely have sent alarm klaxons resounding through the ship, and something to do with the day-to-day running of the ship was well within Hawke's abilities to deal with. Knowing his adherence to the book, though...

Trask mentally prepared herself to walk down to the officer's mess after she was done on the bridge.

The elevator ride was curious. Trask checked her digital watch before entering. 12:40:27. As the car ascended through the bowels of the Halcyon-class cruiser, she watched the seconds tick off on her watch. Barely twenty seconds after she'd gotten into a car, she left. But in that time, she felt as though she'd aged roughly a year. As she walked through the corridors to the ship's bow, the monochromatic metal hallways seemed to stretch on forever. Every step she took seemed weighted with lead, and the crew that stopped to salute her seemed to enjoy taking their sweet time doing it. She doubled her pace.

The door to the command deck slid open, and the crew saluted Trask as she walked to where Commander Hawke stood. Most executive officers would have indulged themselves by standing by the commanding officer's viewscreen while they had command of the ship. The stricter ones might have just tried it once. Not Hawke. The Commander actually stood to the side of the commanding officer's display observing the exec's viewscreen, as if Trask had never left the bridge.

"Commanding officer on deck!" he barked at the crew as Trask strode up to him.

"At ease," she announced. "You had something to show me, Commander?"

"Yes, ma'am. At 1246 hours, one of our STARS picked up a radiation spike just off the asteroid's second Lagrange point. Roughly two seconds later, that probe shorted out. We didn't get a visual, but the other probes did detect a second radiation flare fifty-seven seconds after the initial incident."

Trask frowned. "You should get the ship's science crew up here- they'll tell you more than I can."

Hawke shook his head. "I confirmed with them before I contacted you. The energy released had a focused- by which I mean asymmetric- profile, and there are only two things a ship can do that produces asymmetrical energy profiles."

Trask blanched. "Then the first flare-"

The XO just nodded. "I can't make this call, ma'am. Regs are very fuzzy on deep Covenant space incursions, and I know my own flaws."

Trask sighed. "Charge the Slipspace capacitors- we need to retrieve the STARS and get those Spartans out of there. All crew to actions stations immediately- who knows what the Covenant did in the time they had."

"Ma'am! Captain!" exclaimed an officer at the sensor station. "We're receiving new readings from the STARS- thirteen spikes, all similar in size and radiation frequency except one. The eleventh one was big. Really big."

Hawke turned to Trask. "Should I give the order?"

The captain sighed and looked away from the tactical display, all the while feeling a strong urge to throw up. "No. The Covenant fleet's already been there six hours. We wouldn't last five seconds."

The commander straightened. "Then what do we do?"

"We wait- until it's over."

As she said those words, Trask's stomach churned. She could feel her prospects for getting to Heaven- if there was a Heaven- go out like a candle.

**

* * *

0713 HOURS, 2 AUGUST 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA BRONZE, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 7**

Banshees swooped overhead, their multitudinous gravity thrusters all voices in a choir of never-ending wails. Their payloads, searing hot plasma and luminescent fuel rod bolts, slammed into the ground below them, scorching metal and stone alike. Dozens of Elite squads stormed through the lanes below at the head of Jackal and Type Bravo hunt-and-kill teams. The Type Bravos would often protest the Elites' meticulous searching, demanding a more direct route to their prey. But it didn't matter. Zeal burned inside the Elites, a white not fire that could not be put out. From where he sat, Cole saw an Elite Field Master skewer an insubordinate Type Bravo before the large apelike alien could even reach its own weapon. Then, as if nothing had happened, the unit moved on.

"Falcon, come in. We've lost your IFF signal. I say again, Falcon, come in. We've lost your IFF signal."

Leon responded. "This is Falcon Actual, over."

"Falcon, we need you to flank a Covenant force passing east of your position to relieve pressure on Cobra, how copy, over?"

"Solid copy, Wolf Pack. Falcon out." Leon pulled back the bolt on his rifle before turning to the rest of the team. Cole looked up.

"Come on, team. We have to get moving."

Cole nodded and moved to stand, but as he did, the whine of gravity boosters in the background suddenly grew a lot louder. Three Banshees flew directly at the fire team, spitting gouts of blue plasma at the Spartans. Before his conscious mind even understood he was being shot at, Cole had already dived to the side. Plasma smeared the metal surface he'd rested on just a minute ago, scorching the silver-purple alloy. Cole dropped a primed smoke grenade at his feet before sprinting towards the nearest ledge. His brain took a quarter second to consider his options. His choice: jump.

Cole slammed into a ledge on the far wall with his chest as his arms scrambled desperately to find purchase. Pain spread through his chest, a fire that split his tissue and screamed to his mind for attention. But Cole wouldn't focus on that- he hadn't failed Commander Ambrose and Chief Mendez yet, and he wasn't about to start. With a grunt, he pulled himself up into a standing position.

By now, the Banshees had flown off, their strafing run over. All the same, Cole left the ledge and entered the main building- no need to make himself a target. He activated a TEAMCOM channel and opened his mouth, but when only a strangled gasp came out, he closed the channel. Cole sighed in frustration for a second before switching his IFF tag's signal profile from 'Combat' to 'Search and Rescue', which was the highest power setting. He wouldn't be able to contact Leon and Eve directly, wherever they were, but he'd at least maximize their chances of detecting him.

Cole reached for his MA5K, only to find it wasn't there. His gaze turned back to the exposed ledge for a second before his training kicked in. He drew his M6 sidearm and checked the magazine. Eight rounds- he was set. Cole left through the only door in the room.

As it turned out, the entire building had been empty. Cole stepped into a seemingly deserted lane, his sidearm out and trained in front of him. Just then, he heard a grunt and a growl, followed by a series of light footsteps. Cole could feel his mind ticking like a clock. Neither Jackals nor Grunts growled, and neither the Type Bravos nor Hunters had the control to step lightly. Cole's trigger finger began to itch ever so slightly, but he calmed himself while concealing himself in the looming shadows of the two buildings that flanked the alley.

Two Elites, armed with plasma rifles, moved into the street. One wore orange armor, and its ornate helmet was adorned with a crest. Cole's breathing eased- he could take on a Major. The other Elite, though, wore white armor, and its elongated white headdress had only slits for the Elite to see through. In fact, its helmet's facial design was somewhat reminiscent of the Corinthian helmets that the ancient Greeks wore. What was more, a lurid orange concussion rifle was attached to the back of this Elite's armor. This was an Ultra- they answered directly to Zealot officers, and no-one else.

Cole crouched, ready to pounce if the two Elites showed any sign of recognizing him. After scanning the area from the entrance, the pair ventured down, alternating firing positions as they went. First the Major would cover the Ultra as its superior advanced, then the Major would move up, and the Ultra would protect it. It was tactically sound.

After they had moved around halfway up the alley, the Major began to move, but the Ultra barked out a command. The orange-armored Elite froze and trained its rifle on the Ultra's area. In the shadow, the huge Ultra's white armor appeared dull gray, and it strode over to Cole's vicinity. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the Elite peered back and forth, looking for something, _something_... SPI armor did have passive camo patterns as well as the energy-consuming active version, but it had never been that effective by comparison. After about five seconds, the Ultra stepped back, apparently content that no enemy was nearby. Cole sighed in relief, and his shoulders dropped just slightly.

The blue slits in the Ultra's helmet couldn't have gotten wider if someone had pried them apart.

Cole's legs snapped straight, launching him towards his opponent. With his left hand, he grabbed onto the Elite's helmet. His right hand punched out, forcing the M6 pistol in it into the facial slits on the Ultra's helmet. He felt the muzzle press against flesh.

No shields to stop the shell.

Cole squeezed the trigger, and as the pistol kicked back against his hand, the enormous Elite froze for a second before going limp. It sank to its knees and began to careen forward as its still-living comrade called out. A torrent of shimmering plasma began to flow Cole's way as he clambered over the Elite's shoulders and back. Grasping its concussion rifle, he fired off a shot, one-handed, at the Major.

The Elite's eyes widened in shock, and its legs coiled as if to jump, but the shining ball of purple energy connected before it could make its escape. True to its name, the shot from the concussion rifle didn't kill. Instead, the Elite was flung back several meters before slamming into the ground on its back. Before Cole even started towards it, though, the Major was twitching and attempting to get back on its feet. Cole didn't waste a moment. As the Elite rose, he sprinted over to it, aimed his pistol directly between the sockets at point-blank range, and fired.

The Elite Major's arm, which had been on its way up in an attempt to slap the pistol away, fell even as its momentum carried it forward, and it ended up delivering a slight impact on Cole's arm. The hit would have been jarring for a Marine, but it was barely a tap for him.

He didn't stand right away, even after he took the Major's plasma rifle and slapped the Ultra's concussion rifle onto his back. His pistol rested, once again, on his thigh armor panel, ready at a moment's notice. But Cole felt as though his head was filled with titanium. It was difficult to think with everything going on. But he had to keep going. Find Leon and Eve. Stop the Covenant counterattack. Get off the asteroid. He stood, accepting his personal mission.

Cole set off further down the alley- on his own, the less exposed he was, the better. He spotted four IFF tags on his TACMAP in a nearby building, and placed a NAV beacon on the building for Leon and Naomi to follow. After a second look, he saw the IFF tags belonged to Team Cobra, and the knots in his muscles eased slightly. He pinged their TEAMCOM channel and waited for a response.

One. Two. Three seconds, and still no response. Cole's stolen plasma rifle rose to eye level as he entered the building marked in his heads-up display. He cleared the bottom floor, room by room. He moved as silently as a whisper, his feet barely impacting the metal floor, but Cole could hear every step as if his feet were striking a gong. At length, he entered an elevator to the upper floors.

When the doors opened, Cole's breathing caught in his throat. Next to the bodies of an Elite and two Grunts lay a figure in SPI armor. The plates of the suit were cracked and scorched, and a matching helmet, its transparent visor shattered, lay half a meter away. Lily-A305 stared, motionless, at her last victims.

Cole scanned the room, noting as he did so the trail of plasma scoring, shell cases and blood that led into the next room. Being careful not to make any noise, Cole crossed the room, knelt at Lily's side, and closed the young Spartan's eyes. He sighed. If her face hadn't been screwed up in concentration and pain, Lily could have been sleeping. Cole left the room through the only other door.

As the door slid open and Cole stepped into the room, his foot hit the ground with a _thump, _and he glanced down. He'd stepped onto Keiran-A118's back. Keiran's MA5K assault rifle lay a meter away, and his body was splayed out on the floor- he'd been hit while running. There were not other access points into this room, and Cole knew what he'd find. He did not, however, quite expect what he actually saw.

Covenant corpses in the dozens, from lowly Grunt Minors all the way through a Hunter pair, were littered throughout the room, usually in multiple pieces. The charred and blackened remnants of Covenant plasma containers told a chilling story, and innumerable bullet holes, burn marks, and corpses spoke to Cole as plainly as if someone had been giving him a moment-by-moment account of the firefight.

Isabelle-A258's limp form was propped against a support column, pistol in hand. One of her legs stuck out at an angle, a horizontal slice mark ran across her upper chest, and a web of cracks radiated across her chestplate.

_Sean and Lizzie took me back here- I wanted to keep fighting, and they understood that. It's surprisingly easy to land shots on Grunts' heads, but Elites are a different story. One came up to me and stepped onto my chest. I tried to shoot, but it knocked my arm aside. It raised its energy sword, and..._

The only indicator that Elizabeth-A010 had ever existed was an M7 submachine gun and two light boot-shaped imprints against the coal-black floor.

_Taking out one Hunter isn't too much trouble- it's not a cakewalk, but it's doable. I'd finished on one with my combat knife, but I lost it somewhere in the first Hunter's guts. I was wearing its bond brother down with my M7, and I was fairly certain that it would bleed out. But a Jackal got my attention for just the second it took to snap its neck. I turned my back to a Hunter for a single second._

Sean-A121's chest had been completely ripped open. If a single scrap of muscle hadn't been torn, it had been scorched black. His armor lay in a hundred pieces for meters around him, and there were multiple perforations in his helmet's visor. His neck was bent back impossibly far, as were two of his limbs. His injuries were eerily similar to those of an Elite Major that lay seven meters away.

_Lizzie, Isabelle and I had kept the Covenant at a distance for some time, but when the Ultra commanding them charged our line, that was the end of it. He killed Isabelle before I could detonate the plasma cells, and while I was distracted a Major got in close. I couldn't wrestle with an officer- they were stronger, faster and more experienced than any of us. I got my hand free for just long enough to prime a grenade._

"His IFF is still broadcasting, and his vitals are stable. Through here, Eve!"

Cole turned around to see Leon enter the room. Falcon's leader hung his head once he took full stock of the room's contents, but after a second, he moved to Cole's side as Eve caught up with the two of them.

"Looks like you found Cobra. Were there any Covenant alive when you entered?"

Cole shook his head. Leon nodded, and as much as Cole wanted to, he couldn't help but hear the awful words that came from his leader's mouth. It was as though someone had sprayed all his nerves in acid.

"This is Falcon-Actual to all points, Fire Team Cobra is confirmed KIA. I repeat, Fire Team Cobra is confirmed KIA. This is Falcon-Actual, over and out."

Seconds later, text began to appear in Cole's heads-up display.

"LOSSES CONFIRMED. ALPHA COMPANY IS INADEQUATELY MANNED TO RESPOND TO FULL COVENANT COUNTEROFFENSIVE. ALL FIRE TEAMS: INITIATE ORDER OMEGA-2. BEGIN IMMEDIATE TACTICAL DISENGAGEMENT AND WITHDRAWAL TO ESCAPE VESSELS. RE-PRIORITIZATION OF ANY AND ALL ATTACKING HOSTILE FORCES AS LOW. REACTOR INSTALLATIONS REMAIN HIGH-VALUE CONTACTS."

In spite of himself, Cole was surprised that the plasma rifle's grip wasn't cracking in his hands.


	26. Chapter 25: The Hammer Falls

**CHAPTER 25**

**1456 HOURS, 2 AUGUST 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA BRONZE, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 7**

Cole tossed the MA5K assault rifle he'd been using aside. He, Naomi and Leon had managed to burn through three weapons caches- two Alpha Company, one Covenant- in just a few short hours. And yet for all the hell they and the rest of the Alpha Company Spartans were unleashing, they were barely making a dent in the Covenant advance. There were simply so many to kill, and by now the Covenant were playing the rest of their hand. Squadrons of Banshees had been attacking Alpha for hours, but now there was practically a fleet of the alien flyers hammering on any Spartan within sight, which had forced them to abandon their previously-secure rooftop outposts. What was more, at least half a dozen squads of Seraph space fighters had descended onto the asteroid, and carried out bombing runs seemingly at will.

But nothing compared to the Wraiths. Time after time, they launched their plasma mortars in predetermined patterns, methodically clearing the way for the infantry forces to move through. The Spartans fought back at first, but between the deaths of the company's heavy weapons specialists and the sheer numbers of the tanks, resistance didn't last long.

"Fall back!" Leon ordered. "Magnums out, and fire ONLY if a kill is guaranteed!"

Cole drew his M6 as the surrounding Spartans obeyed the command. He didn't even bother aiming, though. Thinning the ranks wouldn't matter at this point.

Another plasma barrage struck, and the combined pressure waves slammed Cole into the ground. As he picked himself up for the umpteenth time, he noted how long it was taking- how slow he was getting. _No_, a small, metallic voice at the back of his head said. _You're not giving in. Not here. Not like this._ His teeth gritted and his breathing deep, Cole rose to his feet and ran after the rest of Alpha Company.

Several minutes later, in the burned-out wreck of a factory complex, the Spartans stopped to catch their breath. The ground continued to shake as plasma charges and fuel rod bombs impacted nearby, and the sky still echoed with the whines of Banshee engines. It was an extremely effective piece of psychological warfare, Cole admitted to himself. There was no break, no respite, no relenting in this assault.

Suddenly, the ground rumbled, and an impact ripped through what was left of the factory's roof. His view of the sky unobstructed, Cole saw four Covenant ships- two frigates, a cruiser and a carrier- appear in flashes of blue-white light. Even as he watched the ships, small specks began to appear around the ships, their aft sections ablaze with blue fiery exhaust. Seraphs.

"Low-orbit transition," Leon muttered. "Damn the bastards..."

Eve gave a low chuckle. "They've assembled an entire battle group to deal with a single company. Imagine what would happen if there was a battalion of us."  
"Focus," Leon replied. "This complicates things- either we get off this rock, or we eat dinner with ghosts tonight. We need a plan."

"What are we going to do?" Eve asked. "Even if we take the _Calypsos_ off-surface, they'll blow us out of the sky before we can charge up. Face it, Leon. We're stuck here- we're done. I say we hit them with whatever we've got left and take as many of them down as we can."

Leon turned to face her. "You're saying that we should disobey an ONI directive?"

Eve shrugged. "We'll die trying to follow it, and we'll die if we don't try. Same result."

Cole sighed noiselessly. Eve was right- their only chance at survival- the Calypso sub-prowlers- were no longer an escape option. Charging the Slipspace drives to full capacity would send a signal flare to nearby Covenant ships, and attempting an undercharged jump would-

Cole paused. Two undercharged transitions had been attempted in UNSC space-faring history, and both had resulted in the utter obliteration of the ships attempting the jump. Alpha Company didn't have an escape option, but they still had one last card to play. He pinged Leon and Eve, and both turned to look at him.

_We still have an option_, he typed into the TACPAD on his forearm. _The Shaw-Fujikawa engines- we fire them up and attempt transition- blast radius will be several hundred meters, at least._

Leon and Eve glanced at each other. Eve nodded. "I don't think any of us are deluded enough to think we can actually escape. It's pretty good for a non-nuclear option."

"All right," Leon said with slight trepidation in his voice, "but one thing at a time. The natural gravity field will affect the rupture, but not by much. The artificial one, though..."

He let the thought hang.

Cole nodded once before starting to type again. _We split what's left. One group of us goes down into the asteroid's core and destroys the grav generator. A second group makes their way to the ships and charges the Slipspace drives. Workable?_

Leon nodded before immediately beginning an encrypted broadcast to the rest of Alpha Company. As he did, Eve turned to Cole.

"Do we even _know _where we find a tunnel to the core?"

Cole shrugged, but then his eyebrows perked. He then transmitted a TEAMCAM image of one of the foundry complexes to Eve, who looked at it for a moment before nodding.

"Bit of a rough ride, but it should get us at least some of the way there. Nice thinking. Isn't it weird that we're planning a suicide mission?"

A rock seemed to form in Cole's chest, and ice ran down his spine. He couldn't even find the strength to nod. It wasn't so much the idea that he was going to die- he'd been ready for that the day he left Onyx. It was the thought that he was hurtling willingly towards it. Tyler, Eve, Team Raven and so many others had died when their missions had gone _wrong_. This mission, though- Cole would die mo matter what, mission accomplished or not.

_Would that be so bad, though?_ Cole started at the familiar voice in his head.

_You want me to say no, don't you? _Cole thought back consciously. It felt somewhat surreal to be talking in his own mind.

_What do you think?_ Cole's face twitched in irritation.

_Can you just give a straight answer?_

_Well, we'd see them all again- Mom, Dad, Theresa. We'd see everyone else, too- Tyler, Naomi, Pam. They're all there._

Cole's brow wrinkled. _They're all-where?_

A mental image of a small boy smiling formed in his mind. Cole couldn't quite place the face, but it seemed maddeningly familiar. _You shouldn't be afraid to find out._

Cole sighed, and then glanced over at Leon and Eve. _Not yet- they need me for this._

_I expected no less. You're a Spartan. But if you're at ease, you can go into this thing unafraid. Just in case you're the one who has to push the button._

Cole frowned. _What are the odds of that?_

There was no answer.

"Cole? Are you ready?"

He blinked his acknowledgment light green. His armor was on and he had a working weapon- whatever else was true, he was combat ready.

"All right, Spartans, move out!" Leon announced. "All fire teams in target areas Iron and Cobalt gather at Reactor Complex Seven for the attack mission on the generator. Fire teams at Steel, Silver and Gold, move to secure the _Calypso_ vessels. All other teams receiving this message, hold the Covenant up- keep their attention as long as you can. Falcon-Actual out."

Cole noted that only eighty-four acknowledgment lights were green.

The group that had been with Falcon in the factory- five fire teams- moved through the wreckage of the battle for K7-49. Coolant towers belched clouds of exhaust into the air, obscuring ten-meter high mounds of mangled metal and stone. Thousands of fires smouldered and burned through material, organic and inorganic alike, a macabre vigil observed by chemistry for the thousands that had died on the asteroid. The black sky above, formerly only lit by an orange sun, was now filled with a hundred cones of blue light. In the middle of it all, fourteen humans slunk through the rubble in random order. The imaginative might have seen some order in their march, but there was none. Their flanks were exposed, their read unguarded. Cover was abandoned, alternating movement overlooked.

The journey to Reactor Seven took two hours, and Cole was surprised that no Covenant were encountered. He was more than just surprised- his brows furrowed in suspicion. They had sent an entire assault fleet to the asteroid, and Covenant troops had been swarming Alpha Company everywhere else the Spartans had been. Why was it so quiet now?

A partially-intact wall loomed ahead of Cole. There was nothing that differentiated it from any over the other twenty reactors Alpha Company had destroyed- except for the two Spartans in front of the door arch, their assault rifles pointed towards anything that moved. As Cole, Leon and Eve moved passed, they whispered, "You're the last group- we're all ready to begin."

"Good," Leon replied. "Now let's finish this."

"Is it bad that I'm thinking about this whole mission as a 'blaze of glory'-type deal?" Eve asked, seemingly wondering out loud.

"Think of it any way you choose," Leon answered with a sigh, "we are officially disobeying ONI orders now."

For some reason, Cole couldn't help but smile.

Their descent into the asteroid's interior was through a series of metal shafts that ran below the reactor and foundry above. As Cole descended, he saw the metal lining the tunnels disappear, replaced by smooth stone. As he and the other Spartans went further, the rock became even less finished, and it was ultimately replaced by raw stone. These were the artificial 'lava tubes', which had run hot with ore when the reactors had still been active. Now that the gravity lifts in each foundry were no longer operational, the ore was no longer moving, either clogging up the tunnels, or draining out of them before metal cooled. The ground under Reactor Seven was a case of the latter.

Eventually, Falcon arrived at a fork in the tunnel. The lava tube itself continued on, but there was a hole in the tunnel's side that only ran for several meters before it reached a wide-open space. Cole left the tunnel behind Eve, and found himself on a half-kilometer metal platform. No other Spartans were visible besides the two surviving members of Team Eagle- Ian and Pietro.

"Phoenix coming in behind you?" Pietro asked. Leon, who by now was just exiting the tunnel, nodded. Just them, two figures in scarred and scorched SPI armor clambered out to join them.

"All points ready," the first of the two reported. Leon was already on TEAMCOM.

"Begin attack. Priority targets are the uplinks from their power grid to the gravity generators. All remaining heavy weapons- focus on their power grid. Now let's make this quick- we have Spartans topside counting on us."

Almost immediately, dull, distant _booms_ and _cracks_ sounded from elsewhere. Cole turned to Eve, tapped her on the shoulder, and pointed a thumb in the general direction of the gravity projector. He then spread his fingers as if to grasp an object, then closed his fingers and rotated his hand as if to encircle a round object. Understanding, Eve turned to Leon.

"Are all the spaces down here interconnected?"

Leon nodded. "The entire place is basically one hollow space that the Covenant built walls to divide up. This was in the ONI deep-scan schematics, in case there was ever a reason we'd need this."

"Well, now we got a reason."

Leon grunted in response.

After roughly one minute of running, the floor shook, and for half a second, Cole felt slightly lighter. But the sensation was only fleeting- everything returned to normal almost instantly.

"That was fast," Eve murmured.

"Must have caught the Covenant by surprise. They were only expecting us on the surface."

Just then, the walls seemed to vanish as the seven Spartans came up on an open balcony. Cole suppressed a sharp gasp at what he saw. Dozens, no- hundreds of walkways and platforms were set up in the asteroid's interior, all encircling a titanic purple metal sphere. At several points on the structure, beams of white energy from some of the platforms surrounding it fed into the generator, although as Cole examined the area, several platforms were on fire, and no beams reached the central sphere from these locations. There was one other concern, too.

"What the- they- they hollowed the core out?" Ian sputtered.

"Natural gravity must be close to zero with that..." Leon said. "Might complicate things down here, but could make it easier topside. We've got no time to speculate. Let's move."

And move they did. As they ran, all around them the fight raged. Spartans traded assault rifle fire with Elites, who retaliated with a storm of plasma bolts and needles. Thunder and fire cascaded from every direction as Alpha Company's explosives crippled the fusion units powering the gravity generator. Eve and Leon would occasionally fire concentrated bursts from their MA5K carbines, but Cole didn't join- at the range most of the firefights were taking place, using his M6 pistol would be like shooting in the dark.

Suddenly, a ripple in the air in front of them exploded in a shower of blue as a trio of Elites uncloaked. One hung back as it drew a meter-long needle rifle- it fired projectiles similar to the needler pistol, but these did not track targets. On the other hand, though, they traveled more quickly and impacted with _much_ more energy.

Its two comrades drew energy swords and charged. As they did, time seemed to slow to a crawl, and Cole felt as though he had all the time in the world choosing a course of action. He tucked in his legs and rolled past the two sword-wielding Elites as they sprinted, inch by inch, towards him and his teammates.

He finished the roll in a crouch just in front of the rifle-wielding Elite, which rapidly tried to bring its weapon back down for a shot at Cole. He didn't let it, grabbing the barrel of the weapon and forcing it aside with his left hand while his right drew his sidearm. The Elite snarled and let go of the weapon entirely. Surprised by the lack of resistance, Cole continued moving with the rifle he'd been forcing off to the side. The Elite took the opportunity opened by delivering a vicious backhand across Cole's visor, which, miraculously, did not crack.

Cole landed flat on his back, needle rifle in one hand and M6 pistol in the other, as the enraged Elite closed in. On the back of one gauntlet, an energy blade, similar to the energy sword the other two Elites were carrying but only fifteen centimeters in length, sprang into being. The Elite drew the hand sporting the blade back, and with its other reached towards Cole. Without thinking, Cole pointed his pistol directly between the Elite's eyes and fired three shots.

The three slugs never reached the Elite's head, but a blue-silver shield snapped into placed at the points of impact. The charging Elite stopped for a split second. In that moment, Cole rolled aside and rose to his feet. Dropping his pistol, he assumed a firing stance and brought the needle rifle to bear. Its moment of disorientation over, the Elite turned towards Cole and attacked with a thrust of the energy blade, which Cole sidestepped. Undeterred, the Covenant soldier threw a backhand slash.

Again, time began to slow. Cole stepped backwards to avoid the slash, but his heart quickened as the shining blue shard of death crossed his field of vision not two centimeters from his head, burning away a tiny hole in his faceplate. And then, the moment was over, and the world seemed to accelerate to make up for lost time. Cole blinked rapidly to clear the thin white line the gleaming blade had drawn across his vision and let loose with the rifle, all the while backing away. Depleted from the pistol rounds, the Elite's shields only withstood several more shots before collapsing. As the bubble of incandescent energy expanded and popped, Cole felt his heel meet an edge. Not bothering to glance back, he took aim and fired.

The Elite, confident it had cornered its opponent, bared its four mandibles in a triumphant roar. But as a glowing crystal entered its mouth and then its brain, it started. As the needler round detonated inside its skull, the Elite jerked once more before collapsing forward. Cole leapt aside to avoid the falling alien, which was almost a meter taller than he was.

Turning back to the battle, he found the Spartans and Elites engaged in a strange back-and-forth. The six Spartans had superior ranged weapons, but the Elites moved too quickly to let them line up shots on the restricted space of the walkways. And while the Elites could avoid fire, they could not close with their opponents- Falcon, Eagle and Phoenix were as fast as any Elite. And unlike the Elite Cole faced, these two had a two-meter radius kill zone.

Cole aimed at one of the Elites and fired the needle rifle. The round _pinged_ off its shields, and the alien whipped around to face Cole. Its weight shifted to its forward foot, and the Elite lunged forward. But before it could take a second step, the Elite stumbled as Leon landed on its back, combat knife in hand. The larger alien whirled around, attempting to dislodge the smaller human, but it wasn't quick enough. There was a flash of silver, and blue blood began spurting from a join in the Elite's neck armor as the Spec Ops trooper crashed to the metal floor. Without hesitating, Leon snatched up its energy sword and spun on the spot just as the second Elite brought its sword around in an arc.

Plasma met plasma as the two swords connected, and crackles of energy leaped across both weapons as the electromagnetic envelopes around the swords shifted in frequency, trying to protect their wielders from plasma release. Before Leon could pull his sword away, the surviving Elite brought up its other hand- which was holding a plasma pistol on overload charge.

Cole's finger was pumping on the needle rifle's trigger, ejecting the glowing projectiles as fast as the weapon's mechanism would allow. But he wasn't fast enough. The green globe of sparking energy was released at head level, and Leon's helmet seemed to peel back from the plasma as it connected with him.

Falcon Actual fell backwards without another sound. The Elite wasn't finished. Like a whirlwind, it spun on one foot and caught Eve, who had charged its unprotected back while it had been fighting Leon, by the throat, and in one move, ran her through with its sword. All the while, needles collided with, and splintered on, its shields, until they finally dissipated. One needle sunk into its back, and then two, and then finally a third connected as the trigger on Cole's rifle went _click_ and the energy coil dimmed. Just then, a violent violet explosion chained across the Elite's back, ripping the armor apart and hurling the alien, still grasping Eve's body by the neck, off the walkway.

Cole's eyes widened. Needler pistols needed to land seven shots in a target before they would co-operatively detonate. He stared at the spent needle rifle, trying to digest that he'd only needed three shots to utterly devastate that final Elite's body. After several seconds, he looked away from the weapon.

Five corpses and two living humans greeted his eyes. Ian and Pietro were conducting field repairs using parts from Team Phoenix's SPI suits- a necessity Cole understood, but couldn't undergo. He walked over to Leon's body. His right fist still clasped the handle of the energy sword, while his left was spread as if to stop or catch something. There seemed to be no serious damage to him, except above the chest. The plasma had boiled away everything- Leon's helmet was simply gone, and the rest of the shot had melted away much of what it had struck, exposing muscle and, in some places, bone. In one area, even the bone had been seared away, leaving a gap. Cole turned away, unable to look any longer. He forced his breathing to slow as he focused on Leon's hands. With shaking fingers, he pried Leon's right hand open and took the energy sword.

Working hard to fight back a sob, Cole flipped Leon over onto his front and removed the MA5K from the magnetic panel on his back. He took his remaining magazines as well- he'd need every last one. Cole stood and glanced over at Ian and Pietro. Pietro met his gaze for a moment, nodded, and gave him the thumbs-up sign. Cole nodded back and set off. Ian and Pietro may have been Spartans, but they weren't Falcon.

Cole sprinted the rest of the way. Needles, plasma and tracer rounds zipped across his path as he charged towards a small white beam that lanced into the gravity generator. When he started, it had seemed like a tiny white strand, but as he moved, it grew and grew until he could make out individual Jackals and Elites standing around it. He charge on nonetheless.

Out of nowhere, something collided with him, bowling him over. Cole whipped out the energy sword and split the intervening body in two, but the impact caused him to glance around, in case there were more.

Dozens of Covenant Engineers, their luminous, bulbous bodies rippling as they moved, floated towards the gravity generator, entering it in the locations the energy feeds had previously occupied. Cole frowned. Something didn't add up.

It was then that he noticed what was being said on the E-band. While his comm had been open the entire time, he hadn't focused on a word being said. This, though, was clear.

"-rendezvous on surface to assist in securing ships. I say again- the Covenant are attempting generator self-destruct- they're trying to bury us here! All points rendezvous on surface to assist- what the- DAMN! All points, fall back ASAP!"

There was the sound of assault rifles and plasma weapons firing before that broadcast went quiet. There were still many other channels open, though, and Cole, mouth open in shock, listened.

"-they're all over us! Fall back to Platform Seven- ABBY! AAARGH- fall back now!"

"We've lost _Calypso_ Three-"  
"-set off those charges, cut them off!"

"-into the tunnels, NOW!"

Cole shook his head, turned, and then tore off back the way he had come. As he ran, numerous dull _thuds_ and _booms _ behind him announced the tunnel system's extremely short life expectancy. Around him, both above and below the catwalk he ran on, hundreds of Covenant dropships swarmed to the platforms, retrieving the thousands of troops in the underground space. Noise blared in his ear and blinding light assailed his eyes. His muscles burned with lactic acid, and he let out a wordless, agonized cry as a stray needle detonated in his lower back. But Cole pushed on, running and running for the exit. He didn't know why- his part of the plan was complete. Any Covenant below the surface would die, and the Spartans on the surface would kill hundreds more.

But it wasn't enough. Cole wasn't ready to go. Not yet. He needed more. If Leon and Eve had been there with him to destroy the fusion plant and watch the generator's destruction with him, maybe it would have been enough to die down here. Maybe.

But they weren't here. So he needed more. His mind, his heart, his muscles- even his blood burned, decrying the loss of all he'd had. They called out for death- the Covenant had meted out death at his previous home, at New Corinth on Eridanus. They'd taken his family from him- his parents, his grandparents, his sister. The Covenant then took his new family- Alpha Company, and especially Team Falcon- away from him.

Cole urged himself forward, moving his legs even faster, and he felt as though his chest might give out from the effort. He gasped for air, and his heart thundered in his chest as he exceeded fifty kilometers an hour. As the entrance to the tunnels that would lead him to the surface drew closer, a ripple passed through the ground at his feet moments before a deafening _BOOM_ resounded through the cavern. Cole's face contorted in pain as his eardrums absorbed the sound, but he kept going, climbing into the tunnel entrance as the explosion rolled through the asteroid's core.

Cole hurried through the tunnels as quickly as he could, which became more difficult as he began to notice the pain in his back. As he struggled on, his breathing slowed and deepened with his pace. His sprint slowed to a walk, and it took an effort to stop that walk from becoming an amble.

And then the shockwave hit. The rock _snapped_ and _cracked_ beneath his feet and over his head, and loose stones fell from the low tunnel ceiling. The rolling wave itself slammed Cole into the walls before a blast of air roared through the tight passage, forcing him on, all the while buffeting and slamming him with loose metal and rock.

Finally, it died out, and as the artificial wind died down, Cole collapsed, dazed by the lack of support the wind had been giving. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to rise to his feet, but found that he couldn't. Between the pain and the sheer exhaustion, it was simply too much. Angered, Cole reached out with one arm, grabbed the rocky floor with his fingers, and pulled. His arm burned and his ears protested as his body scraped along the rock dust. But he had to keep going- he had to. And so, at a snail's pace, Cole-A299 crawled through the tunnel leading to the surface.

He didn't know how long it took him, but after what seemed like a year of crawling, he saw a gap in the tunnel that didn't seem like it had walls. What was more, there was light. It was dull, and it was orange, but it remained light. His chest heaved as it extracted precious oxygen from the atmosphere, and his arms, depleted but dedicated, hauled the rest of his struggling body along. Every time his muscles jerked in pain or in fatigue, he tried with another limb, and while he couldn't say anything, his mind was at work.

_Just one more_, he thought as he moved his right arm forward. He took a breath. _All right- just one more_. The other arm reached forward and then pulled. He coughed and spluttered for a good ten seconds before resuming. _One more- let's go._ And his right arm lurched up again.

The final stretch of crawling towards the light was as long as the entire crawl up until he saw the light- at least, it seemed that way to Cole. But then his fingers felt an edge, and with a heave, Cole flopped onto the floor of Reactor Seven, utterly and completely drained. He tried to rise, but all his legs would do was twitch. He tried to get his arms to pull himself up, but his arms- the arms that had taken him through the tunnel- did not respond, only spasming feebly as he summoned them. Only his breath continued to come, as even his eyesight seemed to fail. The corners of his vision were beginning to darken.

His heart rate went up as his brain recalled that first exercise on Onyx, and his mind fought the encroaching shadow. But it didn't last long- the darkness grew, until all Cole could see was a tiny pinprick of orange light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

Finally, the darkness became absolute.


	27. Chapter 26: At Road's End

**CHAPTER 26**

**0418 HOURS, 3 AUGUST 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**TARGET AREA SILVER, ASTEROID K7-49, GAMMA SIRIUS SYSTEM**

**OPERATION: PROMETHEUS**

**DAY 8**

2314 Gamma Sirius crept up past the horizon, its harsh orange light bathing the world in a vermillion hue. Any observers were greeted with a vista of blood and fire. As more and more of the shadow was peeled back, a small figure came into focus. It leaned against the bare stump of a support column, completely still. As the orange light reached its head, it stirred and put a shaking hand to its face.

Cole shielded his eyes from the initial sunlight, and then signaled for an increase in the visor tint. After a flicker of static and a second, the world darkened slightly and Cole could move his hand away. He checked the TEAMBIO readout- the only TEAMBIO readout- on his heads-up display. His blood pressure was below normal, but not dangerously low. His other vitals, to his relief, were no longer in the red. Cole sighed as he rose to his feet.

A kilometer in the distance, a Covenant comm node towered over the remains of a ship assembly. In Cole's visor, though, a small green icon was placed next to the structure. This was the only _Calypso_ subprowler that his suit could detect, and the Covenant hadn't found it yet- or so Cole hoped. He set off towards the comm node, hugging the right hand side of the road. He ducked behind a low wall, the only remnant of what was once a colossal building- Cole didn't remember what it had been, and that didn't matter anymore.

He continued cautiously towards his destination, his MA5K carbine in his hands, but pointed harmlessly towards the ground. A stolen energy sword rested on his thigh, but Cole had no intention of using it yet. If confronted before he was close to the _Calypso_, Cole did have an option besides fighting. His maximum jump height, formerly four meters from a standing start, was now over twenty meters, owing to the asteroid's now greatly-reduced gravity. With a running start, outpacing Covenant ground troops would be no problem. Elite Rangers might have been an issue, but their numbers compared to those of average troops on the asteroid so far had been almost negligible.

As Cole inched closer, and closer to his destination, though, he heard no footsteps, no voices, and no engines. He frowned- was it a trap? He stopped moving and listened intently for a second. Definitely not a trap. No matter how good the Covenant were, they still had to breathe, and he heard no breaths nearby. Also absent was the telltale _puffs_ of displaced air that Covenant gravity boosters created, so there weren't any vehicles present. He glanced overhead, but saw nothing except the titanic flame that was Gamma Sirius.

_Where ARE they?_ Cole wondered to himself. Had the Covenant cleared this sector already? Or had they yet to arrive? All the same, he continued moving towards the subprowler's location at a walking pace. At the base of the communications hub, Cole scanned the area around him quickly- there were no Covenant in sight. Gnashing his teeth in frustration, he backed up roughly twenty meters, and then sprinted towards the building. After less than a second of running, Cole jumped, catapulting himself fifteen meters into the air and onto the building's roof. He smiled as he landed- his breathing hadn't even quickened, and the entire process had taken almost no effort. Weaving through the dozen-plus combat barriers on the roof, he made his way towards an angular black craft roughly forty meters in length. _Calypso_ subprowlers could carry dozens of passengers- this one wouldn't even need to carry one.

Cole climbed aboard the ship, but didn't head for the cockpit. Instead, he searched the cargo bays. After several seconds of rifling through spare parts for the ship's engines and medical supplies, he found what he was looking for- a radio beacon, a set of emergency flares and a launcher for the flares. Cole smiled savagely- the Covenant wanted to kill humans. He'd give them his position freely, and they could try to take him down if they so wished.

He reached to his helmet and was about to remove it, but then stopped. Giving his situation a second's thought, Cole accessed the subprowler's environmental controls and sealed the external doors, waited roughly thirty seconds, and then removed his helmet.

Cole sighed deeply as a blast of cold air hit his face. After a week in the stifling heat on K7-49, the controlled interior of the _Calypso_ seemed nothing short of miraculous. Cole's breathing eased, and his thoughts seemed to streamline on the spot, making his mind much clearer. Cole reached into his helmet and removed the IFF chip from his holder just above his right earpiece. He then inserted the chip into the console in the _Calypso_'s cockpit before linking the radio beacon to the comm suite. Unlike most UNSC ships, prowlers and subprowlers did not use radio-based communications, which could be intercepted and used to pinpoint their location. Instead, they used a point-to-point EM beam, which could only contact one ship at a time, but it meant that the only way a hostile ship could intercept a transmission was by physically positioning itself between the prowler and the message's intended recipient. Unfortunately, that system didn't suit Cole's purposes. He uploaded one file from the chip into the beacon and started the broadcast.

Slipping his helmet back on, he pulled up TACMAP and smiled as a bright green blip appeared on his position, marked SPARTAN-A299. He unsealed the subprowler's airlock doors and stepped outside, slipping a flare into the launcher as he did so. He pointed the launcher skyward and fired. A brilliant crimson light erupted upwards, streaking into the asteroid's thin- and still thinning- atmosphere. Almost mechanically, Cole loaded and launched two more flares, before returning to the _Calypso_. If the Covenant hadn't noticed him before, they would now.

Cole returned to the subprowler and sat at the Ops console, pulling up the readout off the power distribution and the ship's Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine. In spite of the situation, Cole couldn't help but admire the schematics of the device on his screen- it was by no means elegant, but something, _something_ about it seemed like it should just make _sense _that this device, and no other, could catapult space vessels light-years at a time. And even so- who would ever have thought that the same device could be made into a weapon?

Cole flatlined the power flowing to most of the systems- navigation, propulsion, stealth systems and life support. One by one, he shut down the ship's systems, leaving only two- the shipboard computers and the Slipspace drive. He then closed the power grid screen. He typed in a command to start charging the drive, adjusting the rate of supplied charge. Finally, a countdown appeared on the screen.

_TIME UNTIL CHARGING COMPLETE: 0:10:18_

Cole smiled and activated the mission timer on his heads-up display and started a countdown of his own. _0:07:00_ appeared in green letters at the bottom-right corner of the display. He didn't want to initiate a fully charged transition- all that would do was teleport the ship to Slipspace and then immediately back to the asteroid once gravity collapsed the Slipspace wake. What was more, if any Covenant managed to make it inside the ship, they would survive.

Cole gritted his teeth as an error message flashed on the console.

_CAUTION: GRAVITATIONAL FIELD DETECTED- SHAW-FUJIKAWA MATRIX MAY BE UNSTABLE_.

_That's the point_, Cole thought. How could he tell this computer that he wasn't trying to escape? He ignored the message and stepped outside.

Cole sighed with satisfaction. Already, he could spot two objects on the horizon, and they drew nearer all the time. He zoomed in using his helmet's optics, and his smile grew- dropships. Since they were out of range of his weapons, and he of theirs, he returned to the subprowler once more. From the storage lockers, he selected a sniper rifle and several magazines for the SRS99C rifle. He also removed all remaining MA5 ammunition- if he was to hold out for long enough for the Slipspace drive not to simply fizzle, he'd need every last shot. After keying the activation sequence for the Shaw-Fujikawa engine to his TACPAD, he turned to exit.

On his way to the door, a purple beam sliced through the hull less than a meter ahead of him. With a _hiss_, it melted straight through the opposing wall as well.

_WARNING: VESSEL IS NO LONGER VACUUM-CAPABLE_. The flashing message flashed across his HUD, broadcast by the ship. Cole's fist clenched- why couldn't the computer just do what he told it to without remarking? He stepped outside and sealed the airlock before aiming down the sniper rifle's sights.

A half-dozen dropships were now in the air, although only five of those were actually moving towards him. The sixth was hovering, the troops bay doors on one of its two prongs open. From it, a duo of Elite snipers zeroed in on him.

Cole never gave them that chance. Three armor-piercing rounds later, both Elites were dead, and the Covenant dropship shifted. Amazingly, though, all it did was turn around and open its other troop bay. Cole rolled his eyes. He killed an Elite with the last shot in his magazine, before reloading in a single fluid motion and downing four Jackal snipers. The only problem, though- there had been six Jackals on board the dropship.

A blinding pain struck Cole in the side as a green flash connected with his body. He immediately dove forward, ignoring the agony that forked like lightning through his body as his injured abdomen impacted the hard floor. He reloaded, and finished off the last two Jackals. Its troops spent, the dropship departed, vanishing from view as it approached ground level. As it did so, though, three more rose from the flatness of the horizon to join the five already in the air.

Cole glanced down at his TACPAD. There were five minutes and fifty-six seconds left until he could push the button.

The dropships approached the communications building uninterrupted for a minute, before stopping just short. Three hovered, and began firing at Cole with their undercarriage plasma cannons as the other three moved in closer, their deployment doors open. He dodged behind a barrier as a trio of heavy plasma bolts impacted the roof, melting through the surface and drawing a web of cracks around the hole. A barrier slid on the weakened structure, and as the metal below it finally gave way, it fell, hitting the floor below with a deafening _clang_. Cole winced as the odds against him mounted.

Another plasma shot connected, but this time with the barrier Cole hid behind. As the red-hot metal slammed into Cole, driven by the force of the shot, it brought the Spartan along for the trip before tumbling away. Along Cole's back, the plates of his SPI armor that weren't melted into the underlayer cracked and crumbled away. Cole launched himself from his now-exposed position, landing behind a barrier as additional shots from the dropships peppered the rooftop.

The next sounds Cole head were the _thuds_ of troops hitting the roof. That made no sense- the Covenant could have just bombarded him while he stood on the roof. But Cole wasn't complaining- if the Elites wanted to fight for their vaunted glory, then he'd give them a fight.

Cole pivoted, and without aiming through the scope, fired his sniper rifle straight through an Elite's chest. As the alien fall, Cole dove under its body as its comrades opened fire. After less than a second, as the body began to char, Cole tossed it aside and then shot another Elite point-blank through the head. It was just then that he noticed the flutter in his peripheral vision. Cole spun on the spot, gripped the sniper rifle in both hands and held it across his body to block any impact.

The incoming blade- a meter long, blue-white in color and crackling with energy- blasted through the rifle like a blow torch through butter. Cole leapt backwards as the rifle came apart in his hands and the Elite Zealot continued to charge. It cocked its arm back, opting for a stab instead of a swing. As its arm began to move forward, Cole dropped the battered remnants of the SRS99C and dropped his right hand to the sheath of his combat knife, all the while darting to the side of the thrust. His left hand shot out and seized the Zealot's wrist, and with a quick twist, Cole heard the _snap_ of bones cracking. The Elite bellowed before tearing its arm from Cole's grip, slamming its elbow into Cole's helmet. A spider's web of cracks radiated from the impact point, but the visor held,for all the good that would do him. In the half-instant he thought about it, Cole was relieved that it didn't shatter in his face.

The Zealot took advantage of Cole's confusion to face him and attacked again. Instead of backing away, he stepped into the attack, slamming into what seemed like a metal wall. Its momentum broken, the Elite stumbled, and Cole took advantage of the moment's reprieve to hurl his helmet aside. When he looked up to face the Zealot, it now had its energy sword in its left hand, while its right arm hung at its side. It was just then that Cole noticed what was behind the Zealot.

Three Minors in sleek blue armor and a Major clad in brilliant vermillion formed up behind their officer, plasma rifles in hand. The Zealot glanced back, and, reassured by the sight of backup, turned to Cole with a low noise Cole took to be a chuckle. It shifted its weight to its front foot. Cole pulled his MA5K off his back and pointed it straight at the Zealot's head. The Elite warrior's mandibles split, but it didn't look like a snarl. Was it... smiling?

Cole and the Zealot stepped towards each other at the same time, and the latter thrust with its sword. As Cole dodged sideways and down, however, the Elite brought its knee rocketing up into Cole's chest. His eyes watering in pain as he heard a sharp _crack_ around his chest region, Cole reached out and brushed his hand over the green priming switch on a certain bright blue object at hip level on the Zealot.

Cole kept moving, barreling into one of the Elites, although he couldn't tell which one at first. Wasting no time, he brought his knee up, slamming it into the Elite's groin. As it roared, Cole snatched the plasma rifle from its loosened grip. Bracing both his assault rifle and the Elite's weapon, he raised both to the alien's head and fired. Its shields flared, but as they did, a rush of heat and air swept into Cole's back. The radiation from the grenade that caused the rush also caused the shield to vanish, and the unfortunate Elite's head disintegrated as Cole fired.

Cole kept moving, dodging and firing. The world became a blur- thunder, bodies and emerald fire flew back and forth as Cole killed anything in his way. One moment, he was firing superheated plasma into a Grunt's breached breathing tank, and the next, he was slamming a Jackal's hand-held shield into an Elite's face. He was vaguely aware that something had happened to his left shoulder, and his left arm was taking incredibly long to react, but Cole didn't care. If he stopped, he was dead.

As his MA5K ran out of ammunition for what seemed like the thousandth time, Cole reached for another magazine, but found none. Tossing the weapon aside, he glanced briefly at his TACPAD. 00:01:22 flashed on his right arm. Just then, a burst of plasma rifle shots landed across his left and back. Cole collapsed with a noiseless scream, but kept moving. He needed _more time_. When a clawed foot landed in front of him, Cole's right arm shot out and caught it, before snapping it. As the Jackal standing above him screeched in pain, he snatched away its plasma pistol before putting the alien out of its misery.

Cole then braced against the ground and tried to stand, but as he did,something slammed into his back. The pressure didn't relent when Cole tried rising again, so he looked over his shoulder. An Elite Ultra stood over him, the energy blade on its gauntlet gleaming bright blue. It snarled out several words in Covenant, which were incomprehensible to Cole.

He was out of time. Cole's left hand reached over to his right and hit the _Activate_ icon. At first, nothing happened, and the Ultra standing on his back actually took the time to kick his left hand away, before plunging his energy blade into Cole's back.

Cole's eyes watered as fire raced through what was left of his body. His mouth was open, but no sound left it. The corners of his vision darkened. But then, a blast of air picked both Cole and the Elite up, before throwing them back again. The last few panels of SPI armor Cole wore flashed in a hundred different colors before turning dark, and Cole felt a burning sensation envelope his body.

But none of that mattered to him. Instead of going dark, his eyes were filled with a vista of swirling blue and white.


	28. Epilogue: Moving On

**EPILOGUE**

**19 AUGUST, 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**NARROW BAND POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMISSION; ORIGIN:UNKNOWN; TERMINATION: CAMP CURRAHEE, PLANET ONYX, ZETA DORADUS SYSTEM**

_/FILE ACCESS GRANTED/ WORM-PROTOCOL FIREWALL ACTIVE/ AUTOMATIC DELETION SEQUENCE: ACTIVE_

_PLNB TRANSMISSION: MEG294-CMB_

_ENCRYPTION CODE: ECHO_

_PUBLIC KEY: N/A_

_FROM: LIEUTENANT COMMANDER AMBROSE, K._

_TO: CHIEF PETTY OFFICER MENDEZ, F._

_SUBJECT: SIERRA THREE ALPHA_

_CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY, CODE-WORD -__FALCON FORTY-__, TOP SECRET (SECTION THREE ROMEO DIRECTIVE)_

_/FILE-EXTRACTION COMPLETE/_

_/STARTING FILE 1 OF 2/_

_I've been looking at priority targets- nothing yet, but given what we saw for PROMETHEUS, I have no doubt that Beta will be thrown at equally hopeless cases. Bird Watcher will keep an eye on Beta-5. We have work to do._

_But that's not the reason for this message. 239, 259, 266 and 344 were pulled in time to avoid this disaster. I will not have them thrown away like the rest of Alpha. For that to happen, we have to derail the original concept. Keeping them on Onyx, even to train Beta, means that Ackerson knows where they are, and he can override the two of us in a heartbeat._

_I need them moved, and you know more people than I do. I need resources for them- SPI will not cut it. Do everything possible. Make sure they are appropriately trained, and appropriately equipped. Above all else, though- make sure Ackerson can never touch them. I'll stall him, but that man could slip paper into sheet metal._

_I've already begun looking for the indicators- we cannot cut it this close a second time. 312 is an exceptional fit, and 320 looks promising. I will continue to observe, however._

_And pursuant to your question after we left _Point of No Return-_ how exactly would you feel if Kelly, John, Linda, Fred and I were all KIA at Delta Tauri?_

_/END FILE 1 OF 2/_

**_/DELETION COMPLETE/_**

_/START FILE 2 OF 2/_

_FROM: CHIEF PETTY OFFICER MENDEZ, F._

_TO: LIEUTENANT COMMANDER AMBROSE, K._

_I'll stay in contact with Bird Watcher. Firebrand and Gatekeeper are also on board. If Ackerson so much as bats an eye at Beta, we'll have warning._

_I know the place to put them. SPECWAR G3. Colonel Urban Holland (file attached). I was attached to his task force during an op in 2529. He's no mastermind, but he can definitely hold his own against Ackerson. Best of all, he's an Army man, so all ONI can do is 'advise' him. You will have to break this to them, however- I was never a Spartan._

_I've ordered the DIs to keep an eye out. It should be more apparent post-augmentation what to look for, but all the same, they should be made aware of the indicators._

_That's not a question you should ask me- I've seen men come and go for years. Perhaps you should re-submit for an evaluation?_

_/END FILE 2 OF 2/_

_/DELETION COMPLETE/_

_/PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE/_

* * *

**SEPTEMBER 1, 2537 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)**

**UNSC CRUISER **_**THEMISTOCLES**_**, HIGH ORBIT OVER PLANET REACH, EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM**

Kurt watched impassively as the door slid open and the room admitted its four newest occupants. He hadn't seen these people in so long; and if his plan worked, he would never see them again.

He had no trouble recognizing them, either. Carter stood ramrod-stiff with his mouth clamped shut. He was almost the ideal team leader; he listened to orders and listened to suggestions, but orders coming from him may as well have been shouted from the heavens. But Kurt could see the cracks- by now, everyone else had settled but Carter. Being separated from his team had forced him to fall back on protocol. He would have to learn to get used to loss.

Emile leaned forward in the chair he sat in, his right hand clenched in a fist inside of his left hand. His head moved back and forth, left and right- searching. Hunting. Every so often, Emile would flex his fingers as his eyes swept the room. He could definitely be straightforward, but not once did Kurt ever have a problem reading him. The lack of subtlety troubled Kurt, and he bit his lip, thinking.

Rosenda settled into her seat, leaned against the backrest, and clasped her hands together. Her eyes pointed straight at Kurt, and only after a second's observation did he detect a slightly glazed quality to them. After another second, he saw that she was tapping the fingers of her left hand on the back of her right hand. _Good_, he thought. _She could teach Emile a couple of things_.

Jun sat behind everyone save Carter, eyes squeezed ever so slightly together- he wasn't squinting, but it definitely wasn't a typical neutral expression. Jun's eyes darted towards anything that moved, observed for a moment, and then moved away. He met Kurt's gaze once, and for the briefest instant, his eyes narrowed further, but then the moment passed, and Jun was examining something else. Kurt paused for a moment, surprised by the fact that he hadn't thought that any of his students would try to read him. Another point in time passed in which Kurt wondered what exactly it was that Jun saw.

But there was no time for that now; Kurt straightened up and cleared his throat. "At ease," he said to the room at large.

Carter loosened slightly, but remained standing. Other than that, there was no apparent change in the room.

"I've called you all here because you are the last of Alpha Company," Kurt began, but he paused when the room seemed to explode. Rosenda tilted her head, and the fingers on her left hand, previously occupied with tapping her right hand, retracted into a fist. Emile sat bolt upright, and his hands gripped his knees. Carter's eyes widened, blinked twice, and his lips drifted slightly apart before reuniting. Strangely, Jun's reaction seemed to convey the feelings of the group best to Kurt, but the only thing he did was raise his right eyebrow. Kurt took a small breath.

"A month ago, Alpha Company was dispatched to a Covenant orbital shipyard with orders to destroy targeted enemy assets. Their mission was a success, but the company was lost."

"MIA?" Carter asked. Kurt opened his mouth to refute him, but then he remembered.

"Yes," he replied, and the yawning void inside of him seemed to grow wider. Whatever ONI decided to list them as, his Spartans remained dead as ever. Except these four.

"Now, Section Three's original plan for any survivors from Alpha Company was to return them to Onyx in order to help with the training of Beta company. You will not, however, be returning to Onyx."

"Why?" Emile asked, echoing everyone's sentiment. Every set of eyes in the room focused on Kurt. He cleared his throat.

"Because I have decided that you will not be assisting me. You will have greater value in the field than at Camp Currahee." Kurt paused for just a moment and scanned the room quickly. Emile's legs were tensed, as if he expected Kurt to tell him that the Covenant were on Reach and he was being dropped in straightaway. Rosenda and Jun seemed not to react, but they were now motionless, their eyes fixed on a single point in space. Carter, on the other hand, furrowed his brows. In terms of Spartan body language, the room was a fireworks display.

"You are being reassigned to the Special Warfare Command, Group Three, which is based here on Reach. You'll be undergoing a brief training period, and then you will be deployed into active combat zones, just as before."

"Permission to speak?" Rosenda pointed a lone finger into the air.

"Granted," Kurt answered, and Rosenda lowered her finger.

"Why do we need additional training? The whole point of what we went through on Onyx was to get us ready for anything."

"You've never trained with this," Kurt remarked, striding over to one side of the room. Four lockers, each two meters tall, stood against the wall. Kurt unsealed each in turn, and a small light cut on from inside, illuminating four suits of MJOLNIR armor.

For a brief instant, Emile, Jun, Carter and Rosenda all had the exact same expression: blank shock. Their eyes widened, and their jaws all seemed to drop the exact same amount. But then Carter composed himself, and Jun's expression became thoughtful. Rosenda and Emile both took on small grins.

"MJOLNIR Mark IV Powered Assault Armor," Kurt announced. "You are Spartans- you will be equipped as such. Procuring this piece of equipment in large numbers would have raised red flags at ONI, as well as being prohibitively expensive. But for just you four..." He tailed off, unable to complete the lie. He'd worked for years to cement the bond between the Alpha Company Spartans, and he'd already tested it by separating them. He couldn't bring himself to break it now. To tell these four they were different from the rest would- Kurt wasn't exactly sure what it would do, but he knew that he could never risk it.

"You'll also learn to operate independently- on your own or in pairs, if necessary. You're already familiar with fire team combat, but SPECWAR may ask you to go on solo missions, and you must be prepared."

Just then, SHIPCOM came online, and a Navy officer said, in a deadpan voice, "Delta 372 has docked." Kurt recognized the Pelican's designation.

"SHIELD Base is awaiting your arrival," Kurt told the four Spartans. "Don't disappoint me."

"It's been an honor, sir!" Carter barked, straightening and standing to attention.

"What he said," Emile remarked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Jun nodded.

Rosenda stood. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander, sir." After a breath, she continued. "We owe you and Chief Mendez everything, and knowing how this turned out- I wouldn't have done anything differently."

"Me neither," Emile said. Jun and Carter nodded in unison. Then, one by one, the last of Alpha Company left the room.

As the door _hissed_ shut, Kurt couldn't help but feel that he hadn't saved anybody.

* * *

Final Author's Notes: Well, that's it, everybody. Over a year after it began, this story is over. There's not much to say, other than it's been a blast writing this. I'd like to thank everybody who submitted a review- your advice always gave me something to think about, and your feedback let me know whether I was headed in the right direction or not. To everyone who read this, whether it was just one chapter or the whole thing, I hope you enjoyed it.

Happy trails, everybody.

-Rookie-


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